UC-NRLF 


LO 


GIFT  OF 


BETTINA 


THE 
STANDPATTER 

A  CHRONICLE  OF  DEMOCRACY 


By 
ELLA  HAMILTON  DURLEY 


Author  of 

"Mr  SOLDIER   LADY'* 


ILLUSTRATED   BY  BURR   GIFFEN 


THE  HERALD  SQUARE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK  CITY 


Copyright -li>  12  by  Ella  Hamilton  Durley 


BARR  &  HAYFIELD,  PRINTERS,  NEW  YORK. 


To  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States 
—the  American  People 


263489 


The  Standpatter 


CHAPTER  I. 

It  was  Bettina  Brigham  who  called  a  halt.  Her  three 
companions  looked  on  wonderingly  as  that  energetic 
young  woman,  whose  strong  guiding  hand  and  quick 
perceptions  had  brought  them  safely  up  the  difficult  in- 
cline, swung  back  the  door  of  the  limousine  and  stepped 
lightly  to  the  ground. 

It  took  alertness  on  the  part  of  her  associates  to  keep 
pace  with  Miss  Brigham's  mental  operations.  She  had  a 
briskness  that  was  half  a  challenge,  an  effervescence  that 
had  to  bubble  up  and  occasionally  spill  over  in  order  to 
prevent  an  explosion.  She  was  now  scrutinizing  for  the 
hundredth  time  the  rough  pencil  sketch  of  the  route  they 
had  just  traversed. 

"This  is  surely  Aztec  Lodge,"  she  said,  as  she  glanced 
at  the  arched  portal  and  again  at  her  notes. 

"Who  ever  saw  directions  so  lucid  as  these?"  And  she 
shrugged  her  shoulders  significantly. 

"Who  ever  saw  directions  so  deucedly  stupid,  I  should 
say,  Betty,  begging  your  pardon."  Ward  Percival  had 
followed  Miss  Brigham  and  was  peering  over  her  shoul- 
der, and  it  was  he  who  thus  gave  vent  to  his  disgust. 

"Listen,"  entreated  the  girl.  "How  Uncle  Haredale 
would  roar  if  he  could  see  Jacob's  labored  instructions. 
'Leave  Holloway  boulevard,'  he  says,  'at  Canterbury 
Rancho,  just  beyond  the  red  bridge.' " 

"Canterbury  Rancho?  The  country  place  of  the  Hon- 
orable Geoffrey  Canterbury,  I'll  be  bound;  and  thereby 
hangs  a  tale." 

"A  Canterbury  tale,  of  course,  Ward  ?" 

"Naturally;  but  isn't  it  queer  that  I  didn't  think  of  its 
being  Canterbury's  big  alfalfa  ranch?  He  was  in  the 
office  not  a  week  ago  and  telling  us  about  it.  When  the 


b  THE    STANDPATTER 

Honorable  Geoffrey  isn't  discoursing  politics  he's  culti- 
vating alfalfa.  It's  part  of  the  game,  you  know." 

"Trust  Ward  to  unearth  a  story  on  short  order.  He 
can  do  it  every  time — to  the  manner  born,  I  suppose. 
He'd  be  no  newspaper  man  if  he  didn't.  Sure  enough," 
added  Miss  Brigham,  "Canterbury  Rancho  must  be  the 
home  of  the  member  down  in  this  neck  o'  woods.  What 
a  fight  he  had  for  the  nomination !  I  remember  you  took 
off  your  coat  and  worked  against  him,  Ward.  Some 
time  you  must  tell  us  your  Canterbury  tale  and  give  us, 
if  you  please,  all  the  frills  and  furbelows — 'ginger',  I  be- 
lieve, is  the  correct  word — that  belong  to  a  modern  Boc- 
caccio. You're  herewith  appointed  official  story-teller, 
Ward." 

"He  fits  the  part,  all  right.  I  could  never  do  it,  my 
dad  being  a  preacher.  It's  fierce  this  always  having  to 
stand  by  the  eternal  verities,"  and  Philip  Ingalls  groaned 
at  his  own  limitations. 

"Let  me  see,  where  was  I  when  I  interrupted  myself? 
Oh,  yes,  we  were  to  leave  the  boulevard  just  beyond  the 
red  bridge — or  was  it  the  lavender  bridge? — then  go 
north  half  way  through  the  gum-tree  avenue,"  continued 
Bettina. 

"It's  a  rare  brain  that  can  measure  half  of  a  given  dis- 
tance without  first  seeing  the  whole ;  but  Bettina,  with 
her  recently  acquired  Berkeley  degree,  was  equal  to  the 
strain."  And  Ward  smiled  on  the  young  girl. 

"Follow  bend  to  the  right  as  far  as  the  five  giant  pep- 
pers," continued  Bettina,  ignoring  his  banter,  "then  cross 
the  little  Arroyo,  passing  the  trolley  line  just  beyond, 
go  up  the  hill,  and  by  and  by — 'by  and  by,'  mark  you — 
you  will  find  yourself  at  the  once  proud  entrance  to  Aztec 
Lodge.  The  crouching  lions  on  either  side  are  en- 
tirely harmless." 

"Aha,  the  solemn  Jacob  indulges  in  a  joke!" 

"So,  here  we  are!"  cried  Bettina  excitedly;  they  began 
to  look  about  with  a  new  interest. 

The  old  mansion  which  they  were  now  facing  was 
quaint  enough  to  have  been  built  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
It  was  perched  well  up  on  the  side  of  the  foot-hill,  and 
the  immediate  grounds,  which  broke  toward  the  west, 
were  enclosed  by  a  broad,  stuccoed  wall  of  stone.  The 


THE    STANDPATTER  7 

outlook  was  commanding,  embracing  to  the  north  a 
wondrous  sweep  of  mountain,  wooded,  or  clothed  with 
an  undergrowth  of  soft-hued  foliage;  and  hugging  the 
western  horizon,  the  gleaming  turquoise  of  the  distant 
sea.  There  was  a  stateliness  which  suggested  the  pre- 
tentious military  stronghold  of  the  medieval  period;  but 
the  rugged  structure  itself,  with  walls  two  feet  thick 
rising  only  to  the  second  story,  capped  by  rows  of  dormer 
windows,  zigzagging  and  jagged,  spoke  with  a  degree  of 
certainty  of  the  crude  and  early  Spanish  days  of  Southern 
California ;  and  those  days  were,  happily,  not  yet  so  re- 
mote as  to  wipe  out  all  traditions  respecting  them,  nor 
respecting  the  place  itself. 

Bettina  explained  to  her  friends  that  in  its  prime,  the 
rude  mansion  was  said  to  have  been  a  substantial  though 
unromantic  hostelry,  a  comfortable  wayside  inn  built 
after  the  fashion  of  the  time,  low  and  rambling.  Here 
the  wayfarer  could  obtain  refreshment  and  rest  his 
weary  bones  after  the  fatigue  of  a  tedious  journey  up  or 
down  the  coast — a  journey  usually  taken  on  foot  with  a 
stout  stick  as  sole  companion,  used  ostensibly  as  a  support, 
but,  in  reality,  as  a  possible  weapon  of  defense  from  dan- 
gers real  or  imagined ;  in  the  case  of  the  more  prosperous 
a  sturdy  mustang  pony  serving  the  traveller. 

Following  the  ever  growing  commercial  spirit  which 
took  root  early  in  the  coast  country,  the  cumbersome  old 
mansion  had  been  extended,  little  by  little,  with  small 
attempt  at  syn,..ietry,  to  a  length  of  full  two  hundred 
feet,  giving  a  unique  impression. 

It  was  during  the  process  of  this  extension  that  the 
picturesqueness  of  the  villa  or,  rather,  its  unconscious  sim- 
plicity was  marred  and  all  but  destroyed  in  the  effort  to 
convert  it  into  a  fashionable  resort.  Conventional  design 
and  genuine  art  have  seldom  been  known  to  go  hand  in 
hand. 

There  were  dimly  remembered  days  of  tally-ho  parties 
made  up  of  the  sprightly  beaux  and  belles  of  Santa  Bar- 
bara, Los  Angeles  and  San  Gabriel;  Spanish  beauties 
there  were  in  those  days,  and  haughty  caballeros;  Eng- 
lishmen, too,  ruddy  of  cheek  and  resonant  of  voice,  with 
a  cheery  self-assertiveness  of  demeanor;  dapper  French- 
men whose  fastidiousness  and  elegance  of  manner  and 


8  THE    STANDPATTER 

garb  somehow  placed  them  in  a  class  by  themselves ;  and, 
mingling  with  them,  the  more  numerous  and  no  less  in- 
teresting, even  if  less  polished,  American  from  beyond 
the  Rockies.  In  those  days  the  halls  and  drawing-rooms 
echoed  to  the  shouts  of  merriment;  of  rythmic  melody, 
laughter  and  dancing. 

There  was,  however,  on  this  bright  June  day  little  to 
suggest  life,  much  less  gayety,  in  the  deep  solitude  of 
Aztec  Lodge,  and  the  occupants  of  the  big  touring-car 
were  evidently  bent  on  something  more  than  mere 
pleasure. 

There  was  in  the  deserted,  ramshackle  villa  an  at- 
mosphere of  disuse  and  decay.  The  imposing  archway, 
with  its  wild  luxuriance  of  overhanging  creepers,  was 
crumbling  in  places  and  sagging  visibly;  the  driveway, 
once  dignified  and  graceful  in  its  curving  sweep,  was 
overgrown  with  moss,  lichens  and  rank,  pungent  weeds; 
gray-green  lizards  darted  hither  and  thither,  making 
merry  in  the  dank  undergrowth;  an  ugly  horned  toad 
scuttled  to  cover.  The  heavy  hand  of  time  rested  on  the 
house  and  the  forlorn  servants'  quarters.  The  long-neg- 
lected groves — apricot,  lemon  and  olive — were  choked 
and  barren,  while  the  vineyards  had  ceased  to  exist  save 
for  an  occasional  parent-stalk  that  still  insisted  on  living 
and  mutely  flourishing  if  for  naught  but  to  testify  to 
the  richness  and  fecundity  of  California  soil. 

"So,  here  we  are.  How  does  Aztec  Lodge  please. Fran 
Wildenow?"  And  Ward  Percival  looked  inquiringly  at 
the  party's  dignified  chaperon. 

"Aztec  Lodge — truly  'a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilder- 
ness/ is  it  not?  I  foresee  I  shall  dearly  love  it.  The  view 
it  is  truly  sublime.  It  takes  me  far  back  in  memory  to 
lovely  old  Heidelberg.  The  site  of  the  old  mansion  here 
is  very  similar  to  that  of  the  Schloss."  The  speaker,  a 
comely  woman  of  forty  or  thereabouts,  spoke  with  the 
measured  intonation  of  a  foreigner. 

"But,  say,  Bettina,  now  that  you  have  seen  the  lodge 
in  all  its  dilapidation,  it's  all  off — that  nonsense  of  your- 
self living  here,  isn't  it?"  Ward  bent  a  searching  look 
upon  Bettina.  _ 

"Assuredly  not,  WardT  The  sight  of  all  this  sup- 
pressed magnificence  only  whets  my  appetite  for  con- 


THE    STANDPATTER  9 

quest.  It's  a  wilderness  true  enough,  but  in  California 
the  wilderness  of  to-day  is  the  handsome  country  estate 
of  to-morrow — the  finished  product.  It's  that  finished 
product  I  want  to  have  a  hand  in  creating.  In  six  weeks, 
if  I  mistake  not,  we  shall  have  the  old  place  habitable; 
in  six  months,  homelike,  attractively  so;  in  six  years,  a 
bountiful  cornucopia,  pouring  riches  into  many  laps." 

"And  how  will  this  be  brought  about?" 

"By  the  simple  magic  of  work,  intelligent  work,  of 
course,  along  scientific  lines,  supplemented  by  California 
sunshine  and  an  abundance  of  •  water."  Bettina  grew 
serious  as  she  spoke. 

"Yes,  water  is  king  here  in  California.  But  I  am  not 
so  sure  of  a  supply  at  this  elevation." 

"Don't  throw  cold  water  on  my  pet  project,  please.  I 
have  looked  into  all  that.  The  water  supply  is  inex- 
haustible. I  have  the  word  of  a  scientific  expert — no 
less  an  authority  than  Dr.  Calvin,  of  the  Bureau  of  Soils, 
at  Berkeley — who  has  himself  tramped  over  these  moun- 
tains and  canyons  studying  the  rocks  and  soil  and  mois- 
ture. He  knows  them  as  well  as  Ward  knows  his  print- 
shop.  He  found  'water,  water,  everywhere.'  It  was 
tumbling  down  in  crystal  torrents,  'torments'  I  imagine 
at  times;  oozing  and  dripping  from  granite  boulders, 
gushing  up  in  porous  places  in  cool,  delicious  springs. 
There's  a  water  supply  here  that  will  be  utilized  one  of 
these  days  in  a  way  that  will  make  a  fertile  garden  of  the 
entire  valley.  Dr.  Calvin  says  that  California  still  has 
her  problems  to  solve,  difficult  problems  they  are,  too,  but 
science  is  equal  to  their  solution.  What  an  alluring  field 
it  opens!" 

"If  the  scientific  guy  is  correct  in  his  diagnosis" — it 
was  Philip  Ingalls  who  spoke  in  the  picturesque  vernac- 
ular of  the  youth  of  to-day — "the  water  alone  belonging 
to  this  big  ranch  will  make  you  a  millionaire,  a  multi- 
millionaire, I  should  say.  I  take  off  my  hat  to  the  future 
Miss  Brigham  of  Aztec  Lodge.  All  she'll  have  to  do  will 
be  to  bottle  the  water  up,  put  it  into  cold  storage,  you 
know,  a  la  Guggenheim  and  Morgan.  That's  the  way 
they  do  it — and  time  will  take  care  of  the  profits.  Fall- 
ing water's  the  cheapest  power  in  the  world.  In  addition 
to  the  water  there's  the  timber  that  we  can  see  on  these 


10  THE    STANDPATTER 

hills,"  Philip  continued,  "and  the  petroleum  that  we  can 
almost  smell.  I  fancy  I  sniff  it  this  minute;  and  the  coal 
that  we  can  easily  trace,  and  the  nitre,  no  doubt,  and 
the  mica.  Heavens,  what  a  field  for  a  monopolist!" 

"Thanks,  awfully,  Phil;  I  hadn't  thought  of  all  that. 
You're  no  end  of  a  good  fellow  to  provide  me  a  fortune 
right  off  the  bat.  I  like  money  and  I  just  revel  in 
making  it  fly ;  but  I've  a  sneaking  notion  that  the  people 
have  some  claims  on  these  natural  resources  in  Cali- 
fornia. I'm  afraid  that  such  resources  as  come  my  way 
I'll  have  to  use  for  the  benefit  of  the  people,  who  are  as 
much  the  owners  as  I." 

"Oh,  you're  talking  conservation  now,"  said  Philip. 

"This  is  all  very  interesting,  not  to  say  instructive," 
and  Ward  laughed  apologetically,  "but,  good  friends, 
forbear;  I  happen  to  know  of  a  hamper  with  sundry  de- 
lectable things  to  eat — " 

"How  negligent  I  have  been" — Frau  Wildenow  chose 
to  assume  the  role  of  hostess  when  out  with  Bettina's 
friends.  "I  beg  a  thousand  pardons."  And  the  good 
woman  made  an  ineffectual  effort  to  rise.  Her  dizzy 
struggle  brought  both  young  men  to  her  aid.  With 
freezing  politeness  she  declined  the  proffered  hands  and 
scrambled  giddily  to  her  feet.  If  there  was  anything 
Frau  Wildenow  resented  it  was  a  show  of  deference  paid 
her  superior  years.  "Age?"  she  would  sometimes  say; 
"it  should  never  be  mentioned.  How  could  I  tell  my 
age?  I  know  it  not.  My  memory  reaches  not  back 
so  far." 

"We'll  have  things  ready  in  a  jiffy,"  cried  Bettina. 
"See,  Ward  and  Phil  already  have  a  blaze  started  and  it's 

Tolly,  put  the  kettle  on, 
We'll  all  have  tea.'  " 


THE    STANDPATTER  11 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  shower  of  mild  remonstrance  and  expostulation  was 
precipitated  when  Bettina  Brigham,  only  a  few  weeks 
after  her  graduation  from  Berkeley,  solemnly  declared 
her  intention  of  establishing  a  home  at  Aztec  Lodge. 

Old  friends  thought  they  had  a  right  to  speak.  Bettina 
was  one  of  them ;  and,  besides,  she  had  no  one  of  her 
very  own  to  advise  her. 

Mrs.  Cowan-Cowans,  whose  slightest  word  was  law, 
had  spoken.  Every  one  knew  that  her  mandate  regard- 
ing matters  social  few  had  ever  had  the  courage  to  dis- 
regard, and  now  she  was  vehement  in  protestation 
against  Bettina's  whim.  That  was  what  she  called  her 
determination  to  forsake  the  city  and  its  social  allure- 
ments. 

The  dear  hyphenated  lady — there  were  those  who 
faintly  recalled  her  as  plain  Mrs.  Cowans;  this  was,  of 
course,  not  to  be  mentioned — was  sorely  disappointed ; 
more  than  that,  she  was  chagrined,  grieved.  She  didn't 
hesitate  to  say  so.  She  had  taken  Miss  Brigham,  quite 
unselfishly,  of  course,  under  her  own  spacious  wings; 
had  presented  her  to  society  at  a  brilliant  "function." 
Could  she  have  done  more  had  the  charming  girl  been 
her  own  daughter?  There  were  those  who  chose  to  be- 
lieve that  Mrs.  Cowan-Cowans  was  not  as  unselfish  in 
her  motives  as  she  wished  to  appear;  that  there  was  be- 
hind her  amiability  a  well-conceived  plan  to  unite  the 
Brigham  millions  with  those  upon  which  her  son  Reg- 
inald was  even  now  making  heavy  inroads.  Society  can 
be  carping  and  suspicious  in  such  matters. 

"This  much  I  must  say,"  and  Mrs.  Cowan-Cowans 
smiled  through  a  suspicion  of  tears,  as  she  indulged  in  a 
confidential  chat  with  her  friend,  Mrs.  Bradley  Godfrey, 
"I  never  saw  a  lovelier  debutante,  nor  did  I  ever  know 
one  who  made  such  a  tremendous  success.  There  is 
Keith  Gordon,  fresh  from  London,  don't  you  know?  He 
is  madly  in  love  with  our  beautiful  Bettina.  Think  for 
a  moment  of  such  a  triumph !  Why,  he's  amazingly 
popular  among  the  smartest  people  over  there,  actually 


12  THE    STANDPATTER 

hob-nobs  with  the  nobility,  I'm  told.  He  simply  raves 
over  Bettina.  Could  talk  about  nothing  but  her  glorious 
Titian  hair,  her  lustrous,  velvety  eyes,  her  matchless  col- 
oring, which  he  says  he  never  saw  equalled  even  in  Eng- 
land, where  they  go  complexion-mad.  He  talked  to  me 
about  his  feeling  toward  her,  said  his  was  a  desperate 
case,  and  begged  me  as  I  valued  his  friendship,  even  his 
sanity,  to  tell  him  just  how  to  go  about  to  win  her  hand 
and  heart.  I  told  him  it  would  be  advisable  to  wait  a 
year  or  two,  as  she  was  young,  and  if  he  continued  to 
feel  the  same  way,  he  might  then  return  and  I  would  try 
to  help  him.  Really,  though,  I  resent  the  intrusion  of 
these  foreigners.  They  come  into  our  best  American 
circles,  coolly  look  over  the  field,  take  a  survey  of  our 
pretty  daughters,  an  inventory  of  their  fortunes,  as- 
suming that  both  girls  and  fortunes  are  theirs  for  the 
asking.  I  say  they  should  let  our  young  men  have  a 
chance." 

"Indeed,  you  are  quite  right,  Mrs.  Cowan-Cowans.  It 
is  high  time  for  American  society,  which  is  equal  in 
point  of  wealth  and  breeding  to  any  society  in  the  wide, 
wide  world,  as  you  and  I  very  well  know,  to  call  a  halt 
in  the  very  matter  of  which  you  speak.  We  should  hold 
on  to  our  pretty  heiresses  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  And 
that  reminds  me,  I've  always  thought  your  son  Reginald 
and  Bettina  were  intended  by  the  Fates  for  each  other. 
And  mark  my  words,  I'm  not  the  only  one  who 
thinks  so." 

"Oh,  dear  Mrs.  Godfrey,  believe  me,  I  would  not  think 
for  a  moment  of  a  girl's  fortune  in  that  connection.  Bet- 
tina does  not  look  with  disfavor  upon  Reggie,  of  that  I 
am  positive,  and  he  admires  her  very,  very  much,  I  know, 
but  that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  Just  now  we  have  to 
reckon  with  that  temporary  madness  of  hers.  Tell,  me, 
pray,  what  can  lead  the  belle  of  the  season  to  abjure 
society  just  when  she  has  reached  the  topmost  wave  of 
popularity?  I  say  it's  unthinkable." 

"My  impression  is  it's  all  a  college  vagary,"  and  Mrs. 
Bradley  Godfrey  shrugged  her  pretty  shoulders  know- 
ingly. 'A  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing,'  don't  you 
know,  dear?" 


THE    STANDPATTER  13 

Thus  Bettina's  friends  talked,  justifying  themselves  at 
all  times  by  their  deep  interest  in  the  girl's  welfare.  Had 
they  not  known  and  loved  her  from  babyhood?  Had 
they  not,  in  tearful  sympathy,  taken  her  to  their  arms 
and  pressed  her  to  their  hearts  on  that  dreadful  day  when 
both  her  parents  had  been  brought  home  lifeless  and 
mangled  as  the  result  of  a  cruel  railway  wreck?  Bettina 
was  then  but  eight  years  old. 

Something  more  than  sympathy  was  proffered  on  that 
sadly  remembered  day.  Many  a  mother  would,  oh,  so 
willingly,  have  taken  the  lovely  golden-haired  child — 
her  father's  "Honey-bunch" — into  their  homes.  More 
than  one  begged  that  privilege  with  tears;  but  Judge 
Haredale,  as  Arthur  Brigham's  closest  friend,  to  whom 
by  the  terms  of  his  will  had  fallen  the  administration  of 
the  large  estate,  ruled  otherwise. 

"Betty  is  entitled  to  her  own  home,"  the  Judge  said. 
"She'll  have  her  own  life  to  lead.  The  home  was  a  sacred 
thing  to  her  parents.  It's  our  duty  to  preserve  it  for 
their  child." 

"If  I  can  find  a  gentle,  motherly  woman,  who  can  step 
in  here  and  manage  the  house  and  run  the  servants  and 
who  will  just  dote  on  'Honey-bunch' — and,  if  she  has  a 
heart  she  can't  help  loving  the  baby — there'll  be  no 
breaking  up  of  the  old  Brigham  home." 

And  so  it  was  arranged.  Frau  Wildenow  seemed  to 
combine  all  that  Judge  Haredale  sought  in  the  mistress 
of  "Sunnycroft."  She  was  first  of  all  "cine  gute  ver- 
staendige  Haus-frau,"  as  the  Germans  say  when  they 
seek  to  pay  a  woman,  whether  of  high  or  low  degree,  the 
highest  compliment.  It  implies  that  she  has  an  eye 
for  the  minutest  details  of  the  housekeeping  art;  that 
she  has  a  solicitude  for  the  little  things  as  well  as  the 
large  ones ;  in  a  word,  that  she  is  sane,  sensible,  sys- 
tematic: all  of  which  would  count  for  naught,  however, 
if  she  has  not  the  kindness  of  heart,  the  sincerity  of  pur- 
pose, the  culture,  the  refinement,  the  gentleness  and  yet 
the  firmness  that  fit  her  for  the  guidance  of  childhood. 

To  Bettina  Frau  Wildenow  was  from  the  first  an  af- 
fectionate friend  and  companion.  Faithful  to  her  own 
dear  "Vaterland"  and  loving  its  traditions  with  patriotic 
fervor,  the  German  woman  gave  the  child  careful  in- 


14  THE    STANDPATTER 

struction  in  her  own  native  tongue.  As  time  passed,  the 
two  invariably  spoke  German  when  together  and  alone. 
One  happy  summer  they  spent  in  a  quiet  resort  in  the 
Harz  mountains.  What  a  joy  to  the  young  girl  that  she 
could  converse  with  ease  with  the  quaint  folk  she  met  in 
their  daily  rambles  along  mountain  paths. 

Bettina  saw  then  as  she  could  not  have  seen  before 
that  Frau  Wildenow  had  exercised  an  infinite  patience 
in  training  a  little  American  girl  to  use  as  her  own  a 
different  foreign  tongue ;  and  she  remembered  that  the  wee 
girl  often  rebelled  against  the  enforced  lessons  and  some- 
times, alas,  against  the  kindest  of  teachers. 

How  the  tables  had  turned-  It  was  an  advantageous 
light  in  which  her  patient  German  companion  now  ap- 
peared. 

She  was  in  her  own  country.  Bettina  was  the  "Aus- 
laenderin" ;  she  it  was  who  sometimes  found  her  manner 
contrained  and  awkward;  she  resolved  never  again  to 
smile  at  a  foreigner's  mistakes,  however  mirth-provoking. 
Everything  depends  on  one's  point  of  view. 

With  Frau  Wildenow  there  were  in  Germany  no  ec- 
centricities of  manner,  no  vexatious  slips  of  the  tongue 
to  overlook.  In  the  genial  native  atmosphere,  her  strong 
character  and  gracious  personality  drew  to  her  many 
admirers. 

The  travellers  en  route  home  spent  a  few  days  at  Leip- 
zig, that  delightful  old  university  city,  and  musical  center 
of  the  world.  There  Bettina  learned,  quite  accidentally, 
that  Frau  von  Wildenow  (the  modest  German  woman 
had  omitted  the  significant  "von"  when  she  came  to  dem- 
ocratic America)  was  one  of  the  first  among  the  women 
of  her  own  country  to  pursue  a  university  course.  She 
had  done  so  in  the  face  of  strenuous  opposition.  This 
had  come  not  only  from  university  men,  both  faculty 
and  student  body,  some  of  whom  were  rabidly  hostile 
and  cynical,  but  also  from  her  own  parents,  wealthy  and 
aristocratic  residents  of  Breslau,  who  preferred  their 
daughter  to  be  conventional  rather  than  scholarly. 

A  new  respect  arose  in  Bettina  for  her  "Little  Mother," 
as  she  had  learned  to  call  Frau  Wildenow. 

When  it  was  decided~-that  Bettina  should  take  a  scien- 
tific course  at  Berkeley — rather,  when  she  announced 


THE    STANDPATTER  15 

her  decision  to  do  so,  for  neither  Judge  Haredale  nor 
Frau  Wildenow  had  quite  courage  to  oppose  her  in  any 
reasonable  request,  nor  would  she  brook  opposition — the 
older  woman  immediately  set  about  making  plans  to  ac- 
company her.  She  would  consider  nothing  else. 

Mrs.  Haredale  dared  to  say  that  it  might  be  well  to 
permit  their  fledgeling  to  try  her  own  wings. 

"Remember,"  she  said,  "that  our  little  girl  is  growing 
up.  She  will  soon  be  seventeen,  almost  a  woman. 
Wouldn't  it  be  well  to  give  her  a  little  responsibility 
to  face?" 

"I  couldn't  think  of  permitting  the  dear  child  to.  go 
alone,"  was  the  reply.  "Think  of  her  beauty  as  well  as 
her  youth.  Will  she  not  be  a  'co-ed'  as  you  say  in 
America?  That  will  make  a  chaperon  an  actual  neces- 
sity, nicht  wahr?" 

Not  only  did  Bettina's  chaperon  accompany  her,  but 
it  was  further  decided  that  it  would  be  much  better  to 
establish  a  temporary  home  in  the  northern  city.  Where 
was  the  grace  of  hospitality  so  greatly  appreciated  as  in 
a  college  town?  where  was  it  so  needed?  Thus  it  was 
that  the  years  at  Berkeley  were  doubly  happy.  A 
sightly  old-time  mansion  was  chosen  for  their  temporary 
residence.  It  was  close  to  the  campus — so  near,  in  fact, 
that  the  glorious  trees  and  dignified  buildings,  so  marked 
a  feature  of  the  university,  seemed  an  adjunct  of  their 
own  spacious  grounds. 

If  there  was  a  suggestion  of  gloom  in  the  stately  house 
itself,  it  was  soon  lost.  It  required  but  the  presence  of 
youth.  A  hostess,  young,  vivacious,  beautiful,  accom- 
plished ;  a  mistress,  indulgent,  resourceful ;  college  songs 
and  college  cheer — sometimes  college  pranks,  too — and 
so  the  years  slipped  by. 


k-~<5 


16  THE    STANDPATTER 


CHAPTER  III. 

Six  weeks  had  passed — weeks  of  splendid  activity  at 
Aztec  Lodge,  of  prodigious  achievement  as  well. 

The  story  flew  from  lip  to  lip  that  the  long  untenanted 
villa,  theretofore  a  blot  on  the  landscape,  was  again  oc- 
cupied; that  it  was  to  be  re-created,  embellished,  made 
the  scene  of  a  sumptuous  life.  Work  was  going  forward 
at  a  mad  rate.  It  was  nothing  short  of  a  miracle  the 
transformation  a  few  weeks  had  brought  about.  It  was 
unthinkable.  The  stretch  of  highway  leading  up  to  the 
villa,  its  one  public  approach,  had  been  re-graded,  rolled, 
and  oiled.  It  was  as  smooth  as  glass,  and,  as  for  the 
house,  so  the  story  went,  no  one  would  recognize  it;  and 
yet,  it  was  said,  the  work  had  only  begun.  The  roof  had 
been  raised,  ceilings  pulled  out,  partitions  removed,  a 
water  system  introduced ;  a  gas  plant  established.  There 
were,  besides,  under  progress,  spacious  verandas,  per- 
golas, sun  parlors,  solar  heaters ;  a  bewildering  array  of 
modern  devices  quite  unusual  except  in  urban  homes. 

Thus  the  news,  duly  embellished,  flew  from  lip  to  lip. 
The  climax,  reserved  for  rhetorical  effect  to  the  last,  was 
reached  when  the  mistress  of  the  villa  was  described  as  a 
young  girl,  a  radiant  beauty,  a  girl  scarcely  out  of  school, 
and  the  magic  which  she  employed  was  her  own  good 
sense  and  a  generous  fortune.  It  was  hinted  that  she 
had  a  mint  of  money,  which  she  knew  very  well  how 
to  use. 

It  was  a  tempting  morsel  for  those  who  loved  gossip. 
Small  wonder  the  story  skirted  the  foothills,  swept  down 
the  valley,  gathering  force  and  momentum  as  it  went. 
With  every  narration  the  mistress  of  Aztec  Lodge  grew 
prettier,  richer,  altogether  more  wonderful.  Sometimes 
it  was  said  she  was  a  foreign  princess,  presumably  in  dis- 
guise; again  it  was  declared  that  the  old  ranch  was  to 
be  converted  into  a  government  experiment  station,  and 
because  of  her  love  of  scientific  research  this  young 
woman  who  had  made^a  name  in  college  had  been  chosen 
to  conduct  it:  all  of  which  caused  paroxysms  of  ^mirth 
when  in  due  time  it  came  to  the  ears  of  Bettina  Brigham 


THE    STANDPATTER  17 

herself.  Fortunately,  her  sense  of  humor  was  never 
more  keenly  alive  than  when  the  shaft  of  raillery  was 
turned  upon  herself. 

The  story  with  its  wealth  of  interesting  detail  reached 
Canterbury  Rancho  early  in  its  meteoric  course  toward 
the  sea.  It  was  already  a  fairy  tale  sufficiently  exciting 
and  romantic  to  satisfy  the  most  exacting.  Strange  if  it 
were  not  so,  and  stranger  still  if  some  of  those  marvelous 
details  which  graced  and  enlivened  the  narrative  had 
not  had  their  origin  on  the  big  Canterbury  ranch  itself — 
the  ranch  which  was  such  a  vantage  point  of  observation. 

In  the  first  place  the  broad  acres  of  the  Canterbury 
estate  stretched  for  nearly  a  mile  along  the  gum  tree 
avenue  which  ran,  now  that  its  curves  had  been  reduced, 
straight  as  the  crow  flies,  from  the  boulevard  to  Aztec 
Lodge;  and,  as  everybody  knows,  Rupert  Yenowine,  su- 
perintendent of  the  ranch  for  a  dozen  years  or  more,  was 
neither  blind  nor  deaf.  Neither  did  much  of  interest 
escape  his  eagle  eye.  As  for  his  gift  of  speech — well,  his 
tongue  had  by  no  means  lost  its  cunning. 

"I  want  to  know  if  you've  heard  the  latest,  Mr.  Geof- 
frey. I  reckon  not,  and  I  des-say  you  wouldn't  guess  it 
in  a  century  of  Sundays." 

"Right  you  are,  old  man.  I  never  was  much  on  riddles, 
but  I've  no  objection  to  your  enlightening  me. 
What's  up?" 

Rupert  asked  no  more.  He  was  never  so  happy  as 
when  striving  for  dramatic  effect.  "Well,  what  would 
you  say  if  I  were  to  tell  you  that  while  you  were  off 
on  this  trip  a  girl  had  moved  in  up  yonder?"  and  he 
gave  a  jerk  of  his  thumb  to  indicate  the  direction  of 
Aztec  Lodge. 

"I  should  say  she  wasn't  lacking  in  nerve  if  she'd  gone 
into  that  crow's  nest  all  alone." 

"Good  heavens,  man!  Who  said  she  was  alone?  I 
reckon  she  has  as  many  retainers  of  one  denomination 
or  another  as  there  are  hairs  on  that  long  head  of  yours. 
They  talk  every  tongue  under  the  shining  canopy  up 
there,  I'll  swear,  from  Sanskrit  to  pigeon  English.  I 
reckon  it's  a  second  Washington,  D.  C.,  for  exercisin' 
the  gift  o'  tongues." 

"See  here,  old    chap.      No    reflections    on    my  hair,  if 


18  THE    STANDPATTER 

you  please.  It's  getting  a  trifle  thin,  but  I  don't  want  to 
be  reminded  of  it.  But  who's  this  remarkable  young 
person  who  has  the  temerity  to  invade  our  solitude?" 

"She's  the  granddaughter,  as  near  as  I  can  find  out — " 

"What,  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  you've  been  slack 
in  looking  into  the  matter?  Overcome  with  modesty, 
were  you?" 

"Not  exactly.  I  was  about  to  remark  that  the  girl  is 
the  granddaughter  of  Caleb  Brigham,  one  of  our  'hon- 
ored and  revered  pioneers,'  as  you  politicians  say,"  and 
Rupert  winked  boldly,  to  indicate  that  in  political  ver- 
biage he  was  on  the  inside.  "It  was  a  good  many  years 
before  your  day  in  these  parts,  but  I  rec'lect  old  man 
Brigham  as  well  as  if  I'd  seen  him  yesterday.  Shrewd 
as  they  make  'em,  he  was,  and  a  powerful  money-maker. 
He  picked  up  land  enough  in  the  days  when  land  here- 
abouts could  be  bought  for  a  postage  stamp  an  acre — 
and  not  much  of  a  buy  at  that  to  all  appearances — to 
make  his  only  son,  Arthur,  a  millionaire  oncet  or  twicet 
over. 

"Well,  Arth  and  his  wife  happened  to  be  in  that  Coast 
line  smash-up  a  dozen  years  ago,  and  a  mighty  unfor- 
tunate happen  it  was ;  for  nary  one  lived  to  tell  the  tale. 
Every  darned  cent  Arth  had  piled  up,  and  Arth  Brigham 
was  no  slouch  when  it  came  to  accumulating  went  to 
this  smidgin'  of  a  youngster.  Judge  Haredale's  her  guar- 
deen  and  handles  the  property;  you  bei  it  hasn't  shrunk, 
not  a  little  bit." 

"Well,  I'm  mighty  glad  to  hear  it.  A  good  big  bank 
account  will  be  mighty  handy  in  fixing  up  Aztec  Lodge. 
I  have  a  suspicion,  though,  that  a  girl  reared  as  she  prob- 
ably has  been,  will  not  have  the  judgment  to  spend 
money  so  that  it  will  count  for  much.  But  what  put  this 
notion  of  ranch  life  into  her  head?  This  is  no  million- 
aire's row,  I  can  tell  her." 

"Well,  as  near  as  I  can  make  out,  Caleb  Brigham's 
granddaughter's  a  leetle  mite  strong-minded.  She's 
taken  it  into  her  pretty  head — 

"A  beauty,  is  she?    The  plot  thickens." 

"Sure,  she's  pretty;  didn't  I  say  so?  The  prettiest 
ever!  But  I  was  about  to  remark  that,  being  saucy  and 
strong-minded,  she  thought  she  could  do  a  thing  or  two 


THE    STANDPATTER  19 

in  the  developing  line  herself.  I  reckon  Judge  Haredale 
told  her  this  would  be  a  good  place  to  begin.  I've  often 
wondered  why  as  shrewd  a  lawyer  as  he  is  let  the  old 
place  go  to  ruin.  The  girl's  been  up  to  Berkeley,  and 
instead  o'  warblin'  a  leetle  music  an'  learnin'  to  make 
pictures  with  a  bresh  an'  sech  like,  all  of  which  is  lady- 
like an'  proper,  especially  for  a  rich  man's  daughter,  she 
up  an'  studied  Political  Economy.  In  one  way  it's  reed- 
ickelous,  an'  in  another  it  indicated  good  horse  sense, 
always  considerin'  she  doesn't  carry  her  shenangoes  too 
far.  She'll  be  runnin'  for  Congress  one  o'  these  days, 
ef  you  don't  look  out.  I've  heard  say  she  can  make  a 
speech  with  the  best  of  them  when  she  wants  to — used 
to  deebate  jes'  for  the  fun  of  hearin'  her  tongue  runnin', 
I  reckon." 

"Well,  I  must  say  that  as  an  Information  Bureau, 
Rupert,  you're  away  up  in  G.  I  can  recommend  you." 

"Much  obleeged,  sir.  I  try  to  do  my  part  in  these 
leetle  neighborhood  concerns.  It  was  jest  this  mornin' 
I  took  a  bit  of  a  fly  up  that-a-way.  Thinks  I,  I'll  take 
a  look  at  the  works  for  myself,  sence  seein'  is  believin'. 
An'  I  want  to  tell  you  that  I  got  a  squint  at  the  whole 
blame  shootin'  match.  You  see,  I  bumped  plumb  into 
the  girl  herself  before  I'd  proceeded  ten  feet,  an'  I'm  pre- 
pared to  say,  Mr.  Geoffrey,  that  for  swell  looks  an'  fine 
manners  she  has  'em  all  beat  to  a  finish." 

"To  tell  you  the  unvarnished  truth,  Geoffrey,  my  boy, 
my  first  thought  was  that  the  girl  was  a  fraud,  a  blame 
fraud,  fer  the  simple  reason  that  no  girl  could  be  as  sweet 
an'  natural  like  as  she  made  out  to  look." 

"Oh,  Rupert,  Rupert,  who  would  have  thought  it  of 
you?  Heaven  help  us  poor  men  folk  when  we  fall  under 
feminine  charms.  How  fortunate  it  is  there's  no  Mrs. 
Yenowine." 

"You  see,"  continued  Rupert,  with  a  shrug  of  his  broad 
shoulders,  "Doc  Millbank — you  recollect  Doc — I  tried 
to  line  him  up  for  you  before  the  primaries  but  I  always 
had  my  doubt  whether  he  toed  the  mark  at  the  critical 
minute — well,  Doc's  the  high  muck-a-muck  of  the  big 
plantation.  An'  Doc's  all  right,  nothwithstandin'  the 
doubt  about  his  previous  condition  of  servitude.  There's 
no  question  about  that  big  head  of  his  being  chuck  full 


20  THE    STANDPATTER 

of  practical,  everyday  sense,  and  that's  what's  needed. 
He'll  be  something  more  than  a  figger-head,  I  tell  you, 
though  he  has  a  half-a-dozen  college  chaps  to  help  him. 
About  as  much  account  as  so  many  bumps  on  a  log  they 
are.  Haven't  the  sand.  They're  too  heavy  for  light  work 
and  too  light  for  heavy  work.  Jes'  betwixt  and  between. 
Might  do  as  ornaments  at  a  pink  tea.  Coin'  to  school 
to  learn  how  to  run  a  rawnch,  as  they  call  it,  is  like  takin' 
a  preliminary  course  in  purgatory  to  fit  one  for  kingdom 
come.  It  addles  the  brain,  man.  No  college  currikulum 
for  me,  ef  you  please." 

"There's  where  you're  off,  old  chap.  It's  the  college 
man  that's  forging  into  every  business,  now-a-days,  and 
the  best  of  it  is,  he's  making  good  wherever  he  goes. 
Miss  Brigham  shows  surprising  business  sagacity,  sure 
enough,  in  looking  for  trained  experts,  and  there's  only 
one  place  to  go  for  the  really  valuable  sort,  and  that  is 
to  the  up-to-date  college  where  they  grow  'em.  That's 
bully,  I  say.  One  of  these  days  I  expect  to  see  you  slip- 
ping off  to  Berkeley  to  brush  away  some  of  the  cobwebs 
and  get  on  to  the  latest  wrinkles. 

"Great  Scott,  man,  you've  an  imagination  that  would 
make  your  fortune  in  literatoor,  whatever  it  may  do  for 
ye  in  politics.  No,  I  reckon  there'll  be  a  leetle  drop  in 
temperature  in  this  pertikelar  frostless  belt  before  I  get 
on  to  what  you  call  up-to-date  wrinkles  at  any  institoo- 
tion  o'  learnin'. 

"But  Millbank's  mighty  well  pleased  with  the  college 
laddies,  all  the  same.  They  don't  belong  to  any  pale  and 
stunted  variety,  and  that's  a  fact.  He  has  one  a-lookin' 
after  water — nothin'  but  water — regular  engineer.  He's 
slippin'  water  down  from  Twin  Lakes — not  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  backbone  o'  the  ridge — pipin'  it  down 
Rattlesnake  canyon,  to  a  big  cement  reservoir  on  the 
south  mesa  that  fifty  Mexicans  are  workin'  on ;  gravity 
fall,  clean  as  a  whistle,  all  the  way,  though  you'd  swear 
by  all  that's  good  and  great  that  water  was  a'climin'  up 
hill  half  the  time." 

"That  looks  to  me  like  a  pretty  big  undertaking  for  a 
tenderfoot  just  out  of  -school,  but  it's  just  that  sort  of 
problems  these  young  college  men  are  grappling  with. 


THE    STANDPATTER  21 

I'll  ride  over  towards  evening  and  take  a  look  at  their 
improvements.  I  like  enterprise." 

"An'  that  reminds  me  that  the  ladies  were  perlite 
enough  to  say  they  hoped  you'd  be  right  neighborly,  you 
and  Madame  Canterbury." 

"The  ladies?    How  many  ladies  are  there,  pray?" 

"Why,  there'?,  a  little  woman,  German  by  the  burr  on 
her  tongue,  who  does  the  motherin'  act;  least- ways  she 
sticks  to  Miss  Brigham  like  a  dog  to  a  bone — a  Meeses 
Wildenow.  An'  there's  a  pretty  leetle  waiting  maid  that 
called  me  M'sieu.  What  do  ye  think  o'  that?  .Looks 
like  I'm  makin'  pro-gress,  don't  it?" 

"Monsieur  Rupert  Yenowine — pretty  good,  pretty- 
good  ;"  and  Geoffrey  laughed  heartily.  'Well,  bon  soir, 
Monsieur." 


22  THE    STANDPATTER 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Before  he  mounted  his  favorite  horse,  "Comet,"  to  ride 
over  to  Aztec  Lodge  towards  evening  of  the  day  of  his 
illuminating  conversation  with  his  superintendent,  Mr. 
Geoffrey  Canterbury  spent  a  diligent  hour  at  his  toilet. 
This  was  unusual. 

His  mother,  a  woman  of  five  and  sixty,  from  whom  he 
had  seldom  been  separated  for  any  great  length  of  time, 
cherished  convictions  on  the  subject  of  a  congressman's 
position.  Mrs.  Canterbury  regarded  a  membership  in 
Congress  as  dignified  and  exalted.  She  had  also  reached 
the  conclusion,  following  faithful  study  of  the  personnel 
of  the  house  from  the  vantage  ground  of  the  visitors' 
gallery,  that  a  certain  representative  from  California  was 
under  peculiar  obligations  to  live — and  dress — up  to  the 
standard  she  had  set  for  the  position. 

Not  for  a  moment  did  she  doubt  that  this  gifted  West- 
erner would  be  called  higher  by  a  grateful  public.  A 
seat  in  the  United  States  Senate  or  even  the  presidency 
would  eventually  be  open  to  her  son.  It  was  her  prayer 
that  she  might  live  to  see  that  day.  Into  the  mazes  of 
modern  politics  she  did  not  venture,  further  than  to  ac- 
cept without  demur  and  without  question  all  views  that 
Geoffrey  advocated.  She  was,  therefore,  a  conservative 
of  the  conservatives. 

On  one  point  only,  as  regards  her  son,  did  she  ever 
offer  a  criticism,  and  that  in  so  apologetic  a  manner  that 
it  could  scarcely  be  held  as  such.  His  carelessness  in 
dress  during  his  vacations  on  the  ranch  was  a  constant 
regret  to  her.  It  wounded  her  pride  that  he  should  forget 
his  station  and  become  for  the  time  being  a  ranchman. 

This  afternoon,  however,  she  had  no  cause  to  complain. 
Geoffrey  hurried  out  from  his  apartment,  clean-shaven, 
carefully  groomed,  immaculate  in  white  flannels ;  a  tiny 
Cecile  Bruner  bud  in  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  Mrs.  Canter- 
bury smiled  approval. 

"Please  say  to  the  ladies  of  Aztec  Lodge,"  she  said, 
"that  I  hope  to  give  myself  the  pleasure  of  calling  very 
soon.  I  shall  be  happy  to  extend  them  a  welcome.  It 


THE    STANDPATTER  23 

means  so  much  to  us  all  to  have  neighbors  of  our  own 
sort.  If  I  were  as  young  as  I  once  was,  I'd  have  Rupert 
saddle  'Little  Dorrit'  this  minute  and  ride  over  with  you." 

"You've  not  grown  a  day  older  since  I've  had  the  honor 
of  your  acquaintance,"  the  young  man  replied  gaily. 
"However,  I'll  tell  them  you  have  serious  intentions 
toward  them,"  and  he  stopped  and  kissed  her  lightly  on 
the  forehead. 

"Oh,  one  moment,  dearest,"  she  called  after  him  as  he 
was  about  to  start.  "Here's  to-day's  mail;  a  basket  full 
of  letters.  Will  you  look  them  -over  before  you  go  ?" 

"I'll  glance  through  the  bunch,  but  I've  a  premonition, 
mother  mine,  that  it  may  be  better  for  my  peace  of  mind 
to  leave  the  reading  till  my  return." 

"Nothing  to  worry  about,  is  there  ?" 

"Not  a  thing  except  a  small-sized  cyclone  in  the  district 
central  committee.  Colonel  Ricketts  has  bolted,  gone 
over  to  the  Insurgent  ranks.  It  wouldn't  be  so  bad  but 
there  was  Silsby  last  week.  There's  disaffection  in  the 
air." 

"Well,  never  mind,  they  can't  shake  your  hold  on  the 
people.  That's  a  comfort.  You're  as  firm  with  the 
voters  as  the  'everlasting  hills.'  They  know  you." 

Geoffrey  smiled  enigmatically  as  he  raised  his  hat  and 
turned  Comet's  nose  toward  Aztec  Lodge. 

He  had  hoped  for  an  evening  of  recreation;  hut  the 
political  situa^K  a  forced  itself  upon  him  in  spite  of  a 
determination  to  dismiss  it. 

Conditions  were  all  awry  in   California,  he  reflected  \i 
gloomily.     The  fact  could  no  longer  be  denied  that  Insur-  * 
gency  was  making  deadly  inroads  in  the  party  of  Lincoln 
and  of  Grant,  the  party  with  which  he  had  worked  with 
enthusiasm  since  he  had    reached    his    majority;    with 
which   he   had   hoped   to   be   allied   through   the   years   to 
come.     True,  these  men  called  themselves  republicans; 
claimed  their  share  of  party  patronage;  denied  the  right 
of  any  one  "to  read  them  out  of  the  ranks.    What  would    , 
come  of  it  all?     The  Insurgents  were  unmistakably  in    ! 
the  saddle.    How  he  despised  the  Hocus-Pocus  by  which  / 
they  had  gained  their  supremacy!     How  could  men  be! 
influenced  by  their  clap-trap?     He  mentally  denounced' 
their  leaders  as  insincere,  reckless  deceivers  of  the  people, 


24  THE    STANDPATTER 

demagogues  every  man  of  them,  each  bent  on  advancing 
himself  under  cover  of  service  to  the  people.  There  was 
all  this  hullaballoo,  for  example,  about  conserving  the 
natural  resources  of  the  state — nothing  but  a  bid  for  pop- 
ular favor.  The  republican  party  had  stood  for  years 
for  this  principle  of  conservation — was  standing  for  it 
to-day.  Every  convention  platform,  national  and  state, 
for  a  decade  had  had  a  good  strong  plank  endorsing  con- 
servation. It  was  unequivocally  the  party  policy.  Yet 
these  would-be  leaders  were  rascally  enough  to  spring 
conservation  as  an  issue  at  this  late  date.  Bah,  it  was 
disgusting!  It  was  by  such  contemptible  tactics  as  these 
that  they  were  disrupting  the  party  in  California. 

He  was  skimming  along  in  the  lengthening  shadows 
cast  by  the  rows  of  eucalyptus  trees.  The  surroundings 
were  inspiring  and  Geoffrey's  spirits  rose  as  he  drew  in 
the  deliciously  aromatic  air  of  the  foot-hills.  He  almost 
forgot  his  bitterness  as  he  watched  the  roseate  tinge,  pink 
deepening  into  vivid  purple,  creeping  softly  up  the  moun- 
tains, touched  by  a  wondrous  pigment  with  its  source  in 
that  great  luminous  ball  now  slowly  sinking  toward  a 
crimson  sea. 

Geoffrey  loved  the  mountains  and  the  sea.  He  loved 
them  passionately  and  found  in  a  proximity  to  either  that 
which  soothed  and  comforted  him.  He  had  a  feeling 
oftentimes  that  his  home  here,  a  half-way  house,  as  it 
were,  between  those  pine-clad  ridges  and  yonder  broad, 
billowy  Pacific,  was,  indeed,  a  "refuge  and  a  fortress" 
from  an  avalanche  of  care  and  anxiety. 

A  brisk  canter  brought  him  to  the  boundary  line  be- 
tween his  own  and  his  neighbor's  acres.  He  bent  for- 
ward in  his  saddle  to  scan  the  evidences  of  improvement 
of  which  Yenowine  had  spoken.  Men  were  at  work, 
f  here  and  there,  singly  and  in  groups.  Close  to  the  road- 
side were  half  a  dozen  Japanese  laborers.  Near  the  little 
brown  men  and  directing  their  efforts  was  a  stalwart, 
athletic  young  fellow,  bare-headed,  bare-armed,  his  kahki 
trousers  rolled  half-way  to  the  knee  over  his  heavy  laced 
boots;  his  every  energy  bent  on  showing  his  men  just 
how  to  plant  a  row  of  -recently  imported  grapevines. 
Geoffrey  recognized  in  this  zealous  director  of  the  work 
one  of  the  college  men  whose  presence  on  a  ranch  his 


"Bettina  Brig-ham,  bellows  in  hand,  was  coaxing-  into 
leaping-  flame  a  pile  of  smouldering  log's" 


THE    STANDPATTER  25 

own  superintendent  resented.     He  smiled  as  he  recalled 
Yenowine's  hostility. 

Raising  his  hat  to  the  workmen,  though  they  had 
scarcely  vouchsafed  him  a  glance,  so  intent  were  they 
upon  their  task,  Geoffrey  passed  on. 

In  the  moment  of  pause  there  had  come  one  of  those 
sudden  atmospheric  changes  so  common  in  California 
in  the  late  afternoon  when  the  sun  is  on  the  downward 
path — changes  which  bring  with  them  something  more 
than  the  suggestion  of  a  chill,  which,  in  this  instance, 
deepened  under  the  thicker  shade  of  the  pepper  trees 
beneath  which  he  was  now  riding. 

Pondering  upon  the  miracle  that  was  being  wrought 
here  in  the  quiet  of  the  foothills  and  not  without  some  curi- 
osity as  to  the  personality  that  was  behind  it  all,  Geoffrey 
turned  into  the  archway. 

It  was  with  studied  ceremony  that  Ozawa,  the  Japa-/ 
nese  "boy''  of  the  household,  ushered  the  visitor  into  the| 
big  reception  hall.     It  was  impossible  for  Ozawa,  the 
deft,  silent,  methodical,  to  be  other  than  ceremonious  in  \ 
the  presence  of   the   Caucasian.     The    formalities   of   life 
were  deep-rooted  in  his  nature. 

It  was  a  pretty  picture  that  greeted  Geoffrey,  one  that 
he  often  recalled  in  after  years. 

Bending  over  the  wide,  old-fashioned  open  fireplace 
with  its  curious,  highly-polished  "fire-dogs"  and  its 
swinging  crane,  Bettina  Brigham,  bellows  in  hand,  was 
coaxing  into  leaping  flame  a  pile  of  smouldering  logs.  They 
responded  to  her  efforts  with  a  shower  of  glowing  sparks 
and  a  ruddy  blaze.  The  girl  wore  a  simple  afternoon 
frock  of  a  soft,  pale  blue  material,  the  short  sleeves  and 
slightly  low-cut  neck  revealing  to  advantage  the  beau- 
tiful contour  of  her  arms  and  throat. 

Her  hair,  heavy  and  lustrous,  was  of  a  warm,  chestnut 
color,  with  a  gleam  of  gold  in  its  riotous  meshes — the 
kind  of  hair. that  is  at  once  the  delight  and  the  despair 
of  artists.  She  wore  it  in  a  loose,  low  coil,  held  in  place 
by  a  silver  arrow.  Her  eyes  were  large,  a  soft,  velvety 
hazel,  with  lashes  uncommonly  long  and  thick  and  beau- 
tifully curved. 

As  she  turned  to  greet  the  guest  there  was  a  height- 
ened color  in  her  cheek  and  lips,  an  added  sparkle  to 


26  THE    STANDPATTER 

her  eyes,  whether  due  to  her  recent  proximity  to  the  fire 
or  to  the  momentary  excitement  due  to  meeting  a 
stranger. 

Geoffrey  thought  he  had  never  seen  so  perfect  a  pic- 
ture of  radiant  youth,  of  exuberant  health  and  beautiful, 
budding  womanhood  as  he  found  in  the  tall,  graceful  girl 
who  dropped  the  bellows  with  a  quick  movement  and 
crossed  the  room  with  hand  extended  to  bid  him  wel- 
come. 

Frau  Wildenow,  who,  as  usual,  had  her  embroidery 
frame  in  hand,  was  presented;  and  soon  the  three  were 
chatting  as  familiarly  as  if  they  were  acquaintances  of 
long  standing. 

"What  a  magnificent  view  you  have  here!"  Geoffrey 
was  standing  before  the  west  window,  whence,  beyond 
the  slope  of  the  hills,  could  be  seen  the  entire  sweep  of 
the  valley  and,  farther  still,  the  blue  of  the  gleaming  sea. 

"Yes,  Dr.  Millbank  calls  this  window  our  million  dollar 
picture,"  said  Bettina.  "It's  worth  every  dollar  of  it, 
isn't  it?" 

"It  surely  is.  And  the  best  of  it  is  you'll  never  weary 
of  it.  Isn't  that  the  final  test  of  a  picture's  value?  I  be- 
lieve the  critics  say  so.  I  take  off  my  hat  to  Dame  Na- 
ture. She's  the  supreme  artist.  Her  pigments  have  the 
correct  mixture.  There  are  no  false  lines  to  ruin  her 
perspective. 

"But,  see" — Geoffrey  pointed  far  down  the  valley — 
"our  ranch  contributes  its  mite  to  your  landscape.  I 
call  that  fine.  Do  you  see  that  stretch  of  vivid  green  ?" 

"Oh,  to  be  sure,  we  have  a  splendid  view  of  your  alfalfa 
fields,  your  big  windmill,  too.  I  fancy  that  with  the  field 
glass  we  might  even  see  you  sitting  on  your  porch  or 
receiving  a  big  delegation — that's  what  porches  are  for, 
I  believe.  Better  be  discreet;  you're  not  only  in  the 
public  eye,  Mr.  Canterbury,  but,  what's  even  more  dis- 
astrous sometimes,  the  eye  of  your  neighbor's  upon  you." 

"Henceforth,  it  will  be  an  inspiration  to  me  to  feel  that 
my  neighbor's  eye  may  be  upon  me.  I  shall  try,  at 
least,  to  think  it  is."  Geoffrey  bowed  gallantly  to  the 
ladies. 

"It's  an  off  season  nowf'  he  continued,  "and  there  are 


THE    STANDPATTER  27 

no  delegations  abroad,  at  least  none  seem  to  come  my 
way." 

"I  suppose,"  said  Bettina  laughingly,  "that,  like  the 
measles  or  smallpox,  delegations  are  likely  to  break  out 
at  any  season,  and  then  your  porch  would  come  in 
handy.  But  you'll  be  returning  to  Washington  soon,  I 
suppose." 

"In  a  little  more  than  a  month,  Miss  Brigham.  I  try 
to  be  on  hand  a  few  days  before  the  opening  of  Congress. 
By  the  way,  my  mother  bade  me  extend  her  greetings 
to  you.  She  expects  to  call  within  a  few  days,  but 
wishes  you  to  know,  meantime,  how  happy  she  is  to  have 
you  ladies  near.  I'm  sorry  to  say  she  sometimes  finds  it 
lonely  on  the  ranch — and  no  wonder,  truly — though  she's 
fond  of  the  life,  too." 

"And  she  will  stay  here  for  the  winter?" 

"Oh,  no,  I'm  too  securely  attached  to  her  apron  strings 
for  that.  She  likes  Washington  and  spends  her  winters 
there.  That  makes  it  just  right  for  both  of  us." 

As  the  conversation  continued  Bettina  turned  and  be- 
gan busying  herself  with  the  tea  things  which  Henriette, 
the  natty  little  parlor  maid,  had  just  brought  in.  The 
kettle  was  humming  now  a  merry  tune  as  it  swung  on  the 
crane.  The  tiny  tea-table,  with  its  pretty  appointments, 
was  soon  deftly  arranged.  The  fire,  now  slumbering, 
now  blazing  afresh,  gave  out  the  spicy  odor  of  burning 
hemlock. 

"Is  it  one  or  two  lumps,  Mr.  Canterbury?"  Bettina, 
sugar  tongs  poised  in  the  air,  awaited  the  young  man's 
reply. 

"My  mother  gives  me  three  when  I've  been  fairly 
good.' 

"Three  it  shall  be,  though  you  can't  expect  everybody 
to  be  as  indulgent  as  your  mother." 

"You  haven't  told  me,  Miss  Brigham.  how  you  came  to 
favor  Aztec  Lodge  in  choosing  a  home.  Understand, 
please,  that  I'm  not  surprised  at  your  choice ;  far  from  it. 
To  me  there's  no  spot  this  side  of  heaven  equal  to  this 
particular  valley.  In  fact,  it's  a  mystery  to  me — has  been 
for  years — that  everybody  in  the  country  doesn't  insist 
on  living  in  Southern  California.  That  might  bring 
about  an  embarrassing  situation,  of  course.  But,  really, 


28  THE    STANDPATTER 

I'm  interested,  and  so  are  a  good  many  others,  I'm  sure, 
in  knowing  why  you  decided  to  reclaim  this  long-de- 
serted villa.  I've  heard  all  kinds  of  surmises  and  I  want 
your  version." 

"Why  did  we  come  here?  Dear  me,  it's  a  long  story. 
I'm  afraid  it  couldn't  be  told  in  one  installment." 

"Make  it  a  serial,  then,  only  I  stipulate  that  I'm  to  be 
in  to  the  finish,  and  may  it  be  a  record  breaker  for  length. 
But  now  I'll  thank  you  for  a  second  installment  of  tea," 
and  Geoffrey  passed  up  his  cup. 

"You'll  surely  need  a  second  cup  to  brace  you  up  if 
you  insist  on  the  story.  Little  Mother,  please  tell  Mr. 
Canterbury  why  we  came  to  Aztec  Lodge.  It  followed 
as  a  matter  of  course,  didn't  it,  once  the  wild  move  to  the 
country  was  decided  upon?  You  see,  my  friends  thought 
I  had  suddenly  lost  my  reason  when  I  first  contemplated 
ranch-life.  Now  that  I'm  here,  they're  quite  sure  I'm 
daffy.  But,  go  on,  Little  Mother." 

"Why,  dearest,  there's  danger  that  Mr.  Canterbury 
may  think  as  do  your  city  friends,  when  I  tell  him  you  have 
so  passionately  loved  this  old  place  since  you  were  a 
little  child.  And  why?  Because,  Mr.  Canterbury,  she 
.-believed  the  ramshackle  old  house  was  where  the  fierce 
j  Spanish  brigands  and  those  terrible  highwaymen  and 
\  the  bold  and  wicked  smugglers  of  the  coast  had  their 
\  rendezvous  and  hid  their  ill-gotten  gains  in  its  dark  and 
\  gloomy  chambers.  She  was  sure,  too,  there  were  little 
people — fairies,  you  know — in  the  deep  woods,  and  un- 
questionably a  few  giants  far  up  in  the  canyons. 

"One  more  story,  please,  Tante,  'and  then'  " — that's  the 
way  the  wee  Bettina  pleaded — but  it  was  always  'and 
then  another.'  Only  once  had  she  seen  the  place — once 
when  she  was  a  very  little  child — but  it  certainly  did 
take  hold  of  her  imagination  good  and  proper,  as  you 
say.  And  when  she  wanted  so  very,  very  much  to  put 
in  good  practice  that  which  she  had  gained  with  so  much 
hard  study  in  school — why,  here  was  the  place,  the  very 
place,  for  the  reason  that  there  were  so  many,  many 
acres." 

Geoffrey  and  Bettina- were  both  laughing  immoder- 
ately when  Frau  Wilderibw  concluded  her  story  in  her 
droll  German  fashion. 


THE    STANDPATTER  29 

"Who  would  have  thought  that  the  Little  Mother 
would  have  given  me  away  so  cruelly?"  cried  Bettina. 

"I'm  like  little  Bettina  in  one  respect  at  least,"  said  Geof- 
frey, "  'I  want  one  more  story,  and  then' — you  see,"  he  con- 
tinued, "there's  still  a  tantalizing  Chinese  puzzle  to  solve. 
It's  unusual,  you'll  admit,  for  a  city  girl  with  every  social 
allurement  beckoning  to  her,  and  the  friends  of  a  life- 
time about  her,  to  change  her  whole  course  in  life.  The 
question  is,  why  did  she  do  it?" 

"And  that  thrilling  recital  will  be  found  in  a  future 
installment."  Bettina  turned  to  replenish  the  fire. 


30  THE    STANDPATTER 


CHAPTER  V. 

Nature  had  been  lavish  in  gifts  to  Geoffrey  Canter- 
bury. From  his  father,  Major  Josiah  Canterbury,  who 
had  served  with  loyalty  and  distinction  in  the  Civil  War, 
enlisting  in  an  early  Iowa  regiment  when  a  lad  of  seven- 
teen, Geoffrey  had  inherited  a  magnificent  physique.  He 
was  tall,  broad-shouldered,  lithe,  muscular,  a  man  of 
striking  appearance.  Not  an  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh 
encumbered  his  closely  knit  body.  His  face  was  chiseled 
along  purely  classic  lines.  His  keen  gray  eyes  looked  out 
from  beneath  heavy  eye-brows.  They  had  that  com- 
manding quality  that  belongs  to  leadership.  Strength 
and  poise  were  depicted  in  his  compact  features. 

In  his  university  days,  in  the  early  nineties,  his  name 
had  stood  for  something  more  than  athletic  prowess, 
though  he  had  been  an  acknowledged  leader  in  sports. 

His  academic  degree  he  had  taken  in  Iowa  in  those 
seemingly  irreclaimable  days  when  it  was  not  disparag- 
ing to  a  student  in  the  slightest  degree  to  be  classified  as 
a  "shark."  Later,  as  the  honor  man  in  a  large  law  class, 
he  held  his  place  among  the  brightest  alumni  of  his  uni- 
versity. 

He  had  won  his  spurs  as  a  debater  of  the  vigorous, 
militant  order  as  well  as  an  all-around  forceful  speaker, 
so  that  even  in  his  "salad  days"  Geoffrey  Canterbury  was 
often  called  upon  to  address  assemblies,  and  did  so  with 
ease  and  naturalness,  if  not  with  the  sober  eloquence 
which  he  later  attained. 

And  yet  with  his  attractive  personal  equipment  for 
public  service,  natural  and  acquired,  Geoffrey  Canter- 
bury's political  career,  first  as  a  legislator  and  later  as  a 
member  of  Congress,  had  been  a  disappointment  to  the 
public. 

Had  his  constituents  expected  too  much  from  their 
young  representative,  or,  weighed  in  the  balance,  had 
he  been  found  wanting? 

As  a  member  of  the  general  assembly  from  "the  im- 
perial county"  of  Southern  California,  the  county  fore- 
most in  wealth  and  population,  at  a  time,  too,  when 


THE    STANDPATTER  31 

problems  of  supreme  importance  were  calling  loudly  for 
solution,  he  might  well  have  rejoiced  at  the  opportunity 
which  knocked  at  his  door,  bidding  him  to  a  noble  part  in 
the  building  of  a  great  commonwealth.  ^ 

California  had  been  for    years    a    corporation-ridden  I 
state.    Land-grants  destined  to  become  of  fabulous  value  | 
were  freely  given  to  corporations  and  favored  individuals. 
Colossal  fortunes,  created  by  special  privilege,  became  / 
the  dominating  factor  in  public  affairs.     To  all  intents  \ 
and  purposes,  the  object  of  government,  as  illustrated  in 
California,   had  been  deflected  from   the  original,  time- 
honored  one  of  the  country,  namely,  that  of  "securing 
the  blessings  of  liberty  to  ourselves  and  our  posterity,"  K 
to  that  of  making  a  limited  number  presumably  happy  j 
by  making  them  rich  and  powerful  and  arrogant. 

The  people  awoke  one  morning  to  a  realization  of  their 
situation :  They  were  at  the  mercy  of  a  few  who  repre- 
sented powerful  interests — of  mercy  there  was  none.  The| 
predatory  millionaires  in  whose  plans  for  self-aggrandize- 
ment the  people  had  acquiesced,  had  become  the  masters.  •' 
They  were  wielding  the  lash.  No  longer  satisfied  with 
the  pound  of  flesh,  they  were  demanding  the  heart's 
blood  of  their  victims. 

But  they  had  gone  too  far.  The  aptness  of  Abraham 
Lincoln's  droll  saying  that  "you  can  fool  all  of  the  people 
part  of  the  time  and  part  of  the  people  all  of  the  time, 
but  you  cannot  fool  all  of  the  people  all  of  the  time,"  was 
well  illustrated  by  the  swift  uprising  of  indignant,  out- 
raged Californians,  and  their  spirited  determination  to 
resume  control  of  their  own  destinies,  and  reserve  the 
public  domain  for  their  children. 

Trained  in  the  old  school  of  politics,  Geoffrey  Canter- 
bury had  not  learned  the  philosophy  of  the  new  democ- 
racy, nor  discerned  the  new  status  of  its  representatives. 
In  his  law  practice  during  his  several  years  in  California 
prior  to  his  entrance  into  politics,  he  had  been  closely 
allied  with  the  railroad  interests,  though  he  would  have 
been  slow  to  acknowledge  that  he  was  not  an  altogether 
independent  agent  at  all  times.  He  had  won  out  in  many 
a  hotly-contested  legal  battle  waged  in  behalf  of  the 
great  corporation  that  he  represented,  and,  in  turn,  the 
railroad  influence  had  done  the  very  thing  that  it 


32  THE    STANDPATTER 

always  seeks,  and  seldom  fails  to  do  when  it  discovers  a 
faithful  and  obedient  servant:  namely,  placed  him  in  a 
position  to  be  of  the  greatest  possible  service  to  itself. 

Service  rendered  demands  service  in  return.  As  a 
member  of  the  general  assembly,  Geoffrey  continued  to 
favor  the  big  corporation,  for  the  reason,  as  he  told  him- 
self, that  the  progress  of  the  state  was  vitally  connected 
with  the  growth  and  prosperity  of  her  railroads.  The  two 
must  move  forward  hand  in  hand  or  they  would  not  move 
forward  at  all.  He  had  convictions  on  the  subject,  he 
sometimes  said;  and  he  usually  added  that  he  had  the 
courage  of  his  convictions.  And  this  was  true. 

To  do  him  justice  it  must  be  said  that  Geoffrey  Canter- 
bury was  honest.  Nor  was  he  a  weakling.  He  had  a 
profound  respect  for  institutions  as  they  existed;  a  sin- 
cere and  at  bottom  unselfish  admiration  for  the  powers 
that  be.  His  mind  was  slow  to  accept  innovations ;  he 
looked  with  suspicion,  if  not  actual  contempt,  upon  the 
\rnan  who  cried  out  for  a  change.  In  a  word,  he  was  a 
f  Sjtandpatter"  by  nature,  as  well  as  by  force  of  circum- 
ptances.  ~~His  was  an  inherited  point  of  view.  When  as  a 
representative  he  first  made  the  journey  to  Sacramento, 
he  resolved  to  pursue  strict  business  methods  in  his  leg- 
islative work.  He  resolved  to  avoid  the  mistake  made  by 
so  many  new  men,  of  being  carried  away  by  a  sentimental 
enthusiasm  for  this  or  that  cause,  however  popular.  Sen- 
timent, he  told  himself,  had  no  place  in  politics. 

The  progressive  movement,  the  beginning  of  which  he 
and  others  of  kindred  views  watched  with  mild  interest 
bordering  upon  amusement,  he  regarded  as  a  mere  ex- 
pression of  restlessness  and  discontent  on  the  part  of 
would-be  party  leaders.  He  was  adamant  in  his  deter- 
mination to  have  neither  part  nor  lot  in  a  movement  that 
must  die  from  its  own  inertia.  He  would  be  swerved 
neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left  by  so-called  progres- 
sive tendencies  of  the  day. 

The  result  was  a  decided  slump  in  the  vote  by  which 
he  was  returned  to  the  assembly,  followed  by  a  bitter 
fight  made  upon  him  two  years  later  by  an  ever-growing 
faction  when  his  name  Appeared  upon  the  official  ballot 
as  a  candidate  for  Congress. 


THE    STANDPATTER  33 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Millbank  had  been  busy  in  the  rose  terrace  since  long 
before  sunrise.  He  had  a  way  of  thus  stealing  a  march  on 
the  younger  men — his  assistants — a  way  which  they  did  not 
seem  to  resent. 

"The  top  o'  the  morning  to  you,  Miss  Brigham.  You're 
just  in  the  nick  o'  time,"  he  called  to  that  young  woman, 
who,  after  breakfast,  had  been  seated  on  the  veranda  steps 
and  was  now  strolling  along  the  garden  paths. 

"I'm  this  minute  ready  to  tackle  the  border  problem,"  he 
continued;  "and,  as  usual,  I'm  bordering  on  nervous  pros- 
tration, puzzling  about  what  will  produce  the  finest  effects. 
It's  a  mercy  you  came  my  way.  What  shall  it  be?  You 
know  the  saying — 'a  bed  without  a  border  is  like  a  garment 
without  a  hem.'  Shall  it  be  fleur  de  lis  or  violets  ?  Phlox 
or  freesias?  Shasta  daisies  or  lobelias?  There's  an  embar- 
rassment of  riches." 

"If  I  were  to  name  my  choice,  I'd  say  violets,  because 
I'm  so  fond  of  the  dear  things,"  Bettina  answered.  "That's 
a  woman's  reason  for  you,  though — a  purely  personal  one — 
isn't  it?" 

"Violets  let  it  be.  I  like  them,  too.  They  stand  up  so 
independent  and  sturdy,  here  in  California,  and  their  leaves 
have  a  beautiful  lustre.  A  row  of  English  daisies  in  the 
foreground  might  not  be  bad  and  they  would  thrive  in  this 
soil." 

"That  would  be  capital !  By  the  way,  how  about  that 
streak  of  adobe,  Doctor?  Does  it  give  you  serious  trouble?" 

"Not  a  little  bit.  You  see,  this  soil  is,  for  all  the  world 
like  some  people  I  know,  all  it  needs  is  more  grit.  A 
sprinkling  of  sand  does  the  business.  Let's  be  thankful, 
Miss  Brigham,  there's  not  the  suspicion  of  alkali  on  the 
premises,  though  the  valley  below  is  pretty  badly  spotted." 

"That's  a  mercy,  sure  enough." 

Bettina  wondered,  as  she  often  did,  how  her  superin- 
tendent came  by  his  practical  knowledge  of  local  condi- 
tions, his  intimate  acquaintance  with  Mother  Earth,  know- 
ing as  if  by  instinct,  how  to  treat  and  cure  her  ailments. 
It  was  all  the  stranger,  since,  as  he  was  free  to  acknowl- 


34  THE    STANDPATTER 

edge,  he  had  spent  most  of  his  life  as  a  city  man  on  the 
eastern  coast. 

As  a  character  study,  Millbank  interested  Bettina.  Here 
was  a  man  whom  she  had  placed  in  a  position  of  responsi- 
bility, really  against  her  cooler  judgment.  Possibly  it  was 
her  wish  to  be  justified  in  a  seemingly  rash  step  that  led 
her  to  accept  so  eagerly  evidence  of  ability  and  faithfulness 
on  his  part.  She  had  been  thoroughly  vexed,  while  nego- 
tiations were  pending,  when  he  declined  resolutely  to  dis- 
close his  past  history  further  than  to  say  that  he  had  been 
a  practicing  physician  in  Philadelphia  for  upwards  of  a 
score  of  years.  His  silence  she  regarded  as  stubbornness, 
and  it  all  but  lost  him  the  place.  It  came  to  her  ears,  how- 
ever, that  because  of  this  grim,  unbroken  silence,  pursued 
during  his  two  or  three  years  in  the  valley,  this  man  of  pro- 
found scholarship  and  ripe  experience  had  rested  under  sin- 
ister suspicion;  that  his  neighbors  had  shunned  him  as  a 
possible  criminal,  and  lost  no  opportunity  to  discredit  him. 

All  this  had  been  conveyed  quietly  to  the  new  mistress 
of  Aztec  Lodge — a  note  of  warning — in  accordance  with 
the  natural  instinct  of  humanity  to  tell  the  worst ;  or,  as  her 
informants  preferred  to  put  it — "to  tell  the  truth  and  shame 
the  devil." 

It  had  the  opposite  effect  from  that  .utended.  Bettina 
could,  on  occasions,  be  defiant  and  a  bit  stubborn.  Her 
sense  of  justice  was  aroused.  A  further  talk  with  Mill- 
bank  convinced  her  of  his  integrity;  of  his  superior  train- 
ing in  the  direction  of  scientific  research,  she  had  no  doubt. 
There  was  need  of  his  mature  and  ripened  judgment  in 
the  work  she  had  undertaken,  a  work  in  which  she  had  no 
intention  of  failing. 

Scientific  knowledge,  re-enforced  by  vigorous  applica- 
tion of  down-to-date  principles  and  methods,  was  the  force 
by  which  this  particular  problem  of  reclamation  which 
meant  so  much  to  her,  and  as  she  fondly  believed  would 
mean,  in  time,  to  the  state,  was  to  be  solved. 

Thus  it  was  that  "Doc"  Millbank  came  into  his  own  ; 
thus,  too,  that  Bettina  was  taking  such  lively  satisfaction 
in  watching  his  neat,  dexterous,  methodical  work  among  the 
roses — pruning,  "shortening  in,"  irrigating,  fertilizing. 

"He  handles  each  delicate  stalk,"  she  mentally  com- 
mented, "with  the  tenderness  and  consideration  that  a 


THE    STANDPATTER  35 

warm-hearted  physician,  such  as  he  must  have  been,  be- 
stows on  a  helpless  child." 

Several  Japanese  boys  were  doing  the  heavy  work  of 
preparing  the  ground  for  the  border  of  violets  and  Eng- 
lish daisies. 

Millbank  himself,  having  yielded  once  again  to  the  al- 
lurements of  his  rose  garden,  was  happy  in  its  fragrant 
depths. 

Having  mounted  a  ladder,  Bettina  was  engaged  in  tying 
up  a  cluster  of  stray  honesuckle  vines  she  sought  to  train 
over  the  newly-constructed  pergola,  an  improvement  in 
which  she  took  much  satisfaction. 

In  the  midst  of  her  work  she  heard  a  step,  the  crunching 
of  the  gravel,  and  looking  up  hastily  saw  Geoffrey  Canter- 
bury turning  into  the  driveway.  He  was  walking,  hat  in 
hand,  his  broad  shoulders  thrown  back,  his  head  erect, 
as  if  drinking  in  the  freshness  and  the  fragrance  of  the  air, 
something  of  the  joy  of  the  perfect  morning  in  his  ener- 
getic, swinging  stride. 

Bettina  continued  her  work. 

"That's  what  I  call  a  rattling  good  job,"  Geoffrey  called 
out,  before  he  reached  her.  "Your  pergola's  a  symphony." 

"I  have  faith  to  believe  it  will  be  if  I  can  get  these  ob- 
streperous vines  to  keep  their  place.  Why  do  clinging 
vines  refuse  to  cling?" 

"That's  too  much  for  me."  Geoffrey  smiled  as  he 
looked  about  at  her  work.  "And  there  are  those,"  he 
added  reflectively,  "just  stupid  enough  to  say  that  our 
higher  institutions  of  learning  do  not  meet  our  everyday 
needs." 

"You're  prepared  to  refute  that  heresy,  I  hope,  right 
on  the  floor  of  Congress,  Mr.  Canterbury." 

"A  few  snap-shots  would  help  out.  Exhibit  A — Miss 
Bettina  Brigham,  Bachelor  of  Science — captain  of  in- 
dustry— three  months  out  of  college." 

"That  would  be  too  convincing.  If  you  wish  to  be 
useful,  though,  you  may  reach  me  that  long  spray." 

"Dee-lighted.  Now,  let  me  come  up  and  tack  it  in 
place.  I'd  like  a  humble  part  in  this  hive  of  industry." 

"That  would  be  hazardous,  seeing  you're  no  feather- 
weight. Thank  you,  I'll  put  it  right  here.  That's  where  it 
belongs,  isn't  it  ?  And  now,  I'm  ready  for  play.  I'm  devel- 


36  THE    STANDPATTER 

oping  a  weakness  for  the  leisurely  atmosphere  of  the  ver- 
anda when  I  can  find  somebody  to  share  it  with  me,  which 
is  far  too  seldom,  or  a  book  to  my  liking.  It  was  awfully 
good  of  you  to  come  over  this  morning.  I  hope  you'll 
acquire  the  habit,"  Bettina  said  gaily  as  she  started  to  go 
down  the  ladder. 

Geoffrey  reached  up  both  hands  playfully,  just  as  he 
would  have  done  had  she  been  a  child.  In  truth,  she 
looked  strikingly  girlish — picturesque,  too,  Geoffrey 
thought — in  her  broad-brimmed  garden  hat,  which  was 
trailing  down  her  back  in  thoroughly  undignified  fashion, 
partly  concealing  the  shining  braids  which  fell  below 
the  waist. 

A  jaunty  sailor  blouse  and  short,  linen  skirt,  golden- 
brown  in  color,  were  matched  by  low  sandals  and  hose. 
It  was  Bettina's  favorite  morning  dress,  chosen,  she 
sometimes  explained,  because  of  its  durability.  She  could 
have  found  nothing  so  exactly  suited  to  her  bright  hair 
and  eyes  and  the  glowing  pink  of  her  cheeks.  Girls  are 
not  often  blind  to  such  considerations. 

"I  hear  you  are  trying  to  resurrect  the  oldv  lemon  grove 
east  of  the  Little  Arroyo,"  said  Geoffrey,  as  they  found 
a  seat  beneath  a  spreading  live-oak. 

"Yes,  that's  one  of  my  biggest  plans.  It  has  been  ter- 
ribly neglected  since  the  break  in  the  north  reservoir 
left  it  without  water,  but  I  have  hopes  that  it  will  'come 
back/  as  they  are  saying  about  Jeffries  and  those  horrid 
pugilists." 

"Oh,  I  reckon  it  will  'come  back'  all  right ;  but  will  the 
gate  receipts — or  your  half  of  them  after  you  have  'taken 
your  punishment' — from  a  market  as  black  as  Jack  John- 
son justify  the  investment?" 

And  Geoffrey  chuckled  at  his  awkward  little  joke. 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  it  as  I  was  before  the  railroads  put 
up  their  rates  just  enough  to  absorb  that  timely  addition 
to  the  duty  on  lemons." 

Geoffrey  did  not  reply.  The  girl  had  unwittingly 
spoken  of  that  particular  side  of  the  citrus  fruit  question 
which  his  opponents  were  pressing  to  his  own  disad- 
vantage. ^ 

"Don't  you  think  the  "shippers  will  have  that  advance 


THE    STANDPATTER  37 

set  aside  ?    I  hear  they  are  fighting  it  in  the  courts,"  she 
said. 

"I  hope  they  will  and  I  think  they  ought  to;  but 
they've  been  rather  unfortunate  in  the  management  of 
that  lemon  case  and  I'm  apprehensive  that  the  decision 
will  go  against  them." 

"You  speak  in  riddles,  Mr.  Canterbury.  You  think 
the  lemon  growers  ought  to  win,  but  say  you're  afraid 
they  won't.  How  can  that  be  in  a  court  of  justice?  You 
see,"  added  the  girl  a  little  loftily,  "I  specialized  at 
Berkeley  on  the  social  and  economic  side  of  jurisprudence; 
and  you're  furnishing  me,  I  fancy,  a  pretty  good  example 
of  what  our  Professor  Lindley  would  call  'the  conflict 
between  true  economic  ideals  and  the  actual  administra- 
tion of  justice.' " 

"What  I  meant  to  say  was  that  the  fruit-growers,  or 
rather  the  shippers,  have  managed  their  case  badly  and 
are  likely  to  suffer  the  consequences.  Their  first  attor- 
ney blundered  inexcusably  by  demurring  to  the  railroads' 
pleadings,  instead  of  amending  his  clients'  petition;  and 
after  the  shippers  brought  Clark  Whitlock  into  the  case, 
you  know  what  happened  to  Whitlock? — he  had  a  stroke 
of  apoplexy  just  as  he  was  entering  the  courtroom  to  try 
the  case.  It  looks  to  me  as  if  the  shippers  would  have  to 
have  a  mighty  strong  case  to  win,  after  such  a  run  of 
luck  as  that." " 

"Well,  I  can't  see  why  a  blunder  of  their  first  lawyer 
or  the  illness,  or  even  death,  of  the  last  one  should  in- 
fluence the  decision — isn't  right  right  and  wrong  wrong 
in  all  circumstances?" 

"Not  quite,  in  practical  affairs.  When  you  engage  in 
litigation  you  are  assumed  to  present  your  case  correctly, 
in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  practice,  as  well  as  to 
rest  it  upon  sound  principles  of  law,  as  fixed  by  prece- 
dents. If  your  lawyer  blunders  and  mismanages  your 
interests,  or  jf  he  gets  sick  and  gives  counsel  on  the 
other  side  any  one  of  half  a  dozen  advantages  they  can 
gain  by  his  being  hors  de  combat,  you  have  to  take  the 
consequences." 

"Well,  I  like  that.  I  pay  taxes  to  build  courthouses 
and  pay  the  salaries  of  judges  for  the  purpose  of  doing 
justice  between  me  and  my  neighbor,  and  that's  what  I 


38  THE    STANDPATTER 

get — a  chance  to  get  my  rights — if  my  lawyer  makes  no 
mistakes  and  keeps  his  health." 

"It  isn't  that,  exactly.  We  have  to  have  rules  of  prac- 
tice. If  we  didn't  justice  would  in  the  long  run  suffer 
more  than  it  does  now.  It  would  not  be  safe  to  permit 
courts  to  decide  cases — as  I  think  I  understand  you  to  wish 
it — by  their  own  ideas  of  right  and  wrong.  It  would  give 
them  arbitrary  power.  Injustice  no  doubt  comes  some- 
times through  the  technicalities  of  practice ;  but  opening 
the  door  absolutely  to  the  equities  as  the  courts  individ- 
ually view  them  would  be  infinitely  worse." 

"Well,  I'm  disposed  to  agree  with  Professor  Lind- 
ley.  He  believes  that  the  courts  have  got  to  find 
ways,  or  be  made  to  find  ways,  to  do  exact  justice  be- 
tween man  and  man.  He  says  it  is  barbarous — yes,  down- 
right barbarism — to  make  our  tribunals  the  arena  in 
which  the  best  lawyer  wins ;  he  thinks  that  is  just  a  polite 
form  of  the  terrible  old  trial  by  battle  in  the  Middle 
Ages;  not  much  fairer  than  the  ordeal  they  put  women 
accused  of  witchcraft  through.  If  you  were  drowned, 
you  were  innocent ;  if  you  weren't  they  knew  you  were 
a  witch  and  burned  you  at  the  stake." 

"Oh,  I  hope  it  isn't  quite  as  bad  as  that  now." 

"It  is  in  California  if  our  courts  will  coolly  permit  the 
better  lawyer — or  the  healthier  one,  either — to  gain  the 
case  for  the  wrong  side.  Doesn't  it  just  mean  that  the 
rich  man  or  the  big  corporation,  that  can  pay  for  the 
lawyers  that  don't  make  mistakes  and  for  several  of 
them,  so  that  if  one  gets  ill,  will  usually  win  their  cases?" 

"Yes,  it  has  that  tendency;  and  we  all  agree  with  the 
president  in  believing  that  something  must  be  done  to 
correct  the  evil  and  give  the  poor  man  an  equal  chance." 

"I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way,  Mr.  Canterbury.  I  wish 
it  could  be  done  right  away,  here  in  California.  Pro- 
fessor Lindley  says  that's  the  next  thing  that's  coming." 

Geoffrey  found  a  way  to  change  the  subject. 


THE    STANDPATTER  39 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  first  visit  to  Aztec  Lodge  had  been  made  by  Mad- 
ame Canterbury. 

Curiosity  had  been  whetted  to  an  unwonted  degree 
by  Rupert  Yenowine's  volubility  regarding  the  doings 
and  sayings  up  there,  to  too  high  a  pitch  to  permit  her 
deferring  the  call  very  long.  Besides,  she  felt  a  friendly 
interest  in  her  new  neighbors;  and  desired  to  establish 
cordial  relations  with  the  ladies  before  her  departure 
eastward.  It  would  be  cheering,  she  thought,  during  her 
absence  to  know  that  congenial  friends  awaited  her  on 
her  return. 

"It's  a  cu-rus  thing  the  way  they  have  o'  doin'  things 
up  Aztec  way.  I  reckon  you'll  sense  that  before  you've 
looked  around  a  leetle  mite.  It's  as  good  as  a  menagerie 
any  day  o'  the  week,  to  watch  them  Japs  a  layin'  out 
their  dee-signs.  They  couldn't  be  more  keerful,  I  swan, 
ef  the  airth  was  diamond  dust  and  the  plants  they  were 
settin'  in  it  were  so  many  priceless  jooels  from  the 
queen's  tiarry."  With  a  characteristic  flourish,  Rupert 
was  handing  Madame  Canterbury  into  the  old  family 
Victoria. 

"The  Japanese  are  a  painstaking  and  intelligent  race, 
according  to  my  observation,  Rupert.  We  Americans 
have  a  good  deal  to  learn  from  them  in  industrial  meth- 
ods. I  admire  their  nicety  of  execution  very  much." 

Madame  Cr  'erbury  was  always  scrupulous  in  her 
choice  of  words ;  she  could  be  severe  at  times.  She  had 
a  special  fondness  for  the  Japanese  as  a  race,  had  seen 
and  known  them  well  durnig  many  years,  and  it  always 
stirred  her  up  to  hear  them  criticised. 

"Oh,  they're  all  right,  o'  course,  but  a  white  man's 
good  enough,  for  me,"  and  Rupert  chuckled  as  he  walked 
away.  :  ••'H&CH 

The  afternoon  was  far  spent  when  the  old  carriage 
with  the  team  of  dappled  grays  again  appeared  at  the 
door. 

Geoffrey,  who  had  returned  a  few  minutes  before  his 


40  THE    STANDPATTER 

mother,  hastened  out  to  welcome  her  and  assist  her  in 
alighting. 

He  had  had  a  wearisome  all-day  ride  on  his  good  nag, 
"Comet,"  far  down  the  valley,  his  mission  purely  polit- 
ical. After  talking  with  a  score  of  men,  old  friends  and 
supporters  in  more  than  one  hard-fought  campaign,  he 
had  returned  with  a  deepened  conviction  that,  in  the 
sacred  name  of  reform,  a  wave  of  popular  unrest  was 
sweeping  the  state.  The  question  was,  how  was  a  man  of 
his  conservative  views  and  rigid  professional  training  to 
meet  the  new  industrial  and  economic  situation?  How 
was  he  to  satisfy  the  rank  and  file  of  the  party  and  at  the 
same  time  maintain  his  principles  and  self-respect?  The 
question  was  one  he  couldn't  answer  as  yet. 

The  first  man  he  met,  Jim  Courtenay,  a  former  client 
and  always  staunch  and  true  in  his  friendship,  sounded 
the  keynote  when  he  broke  out  with :  "Canterbury,  the 
domination  of  the  old  railroad  machine  is  forever  at  an 
end.  I  see  the  handwriting  on  the  wall!  It's  high  time 
you  should  see  it.  You  know  I  speak  as  a  friend.  'Finis' 
is  the  word — writ  in  a  dazzling  electric  blaze.  It's  '23' 
and  'skiddoo.'  The  old  Great  Southern  machine  has  got 
to  get  out  of  politics.  If  it  doesn't  somebody's  going  to 
kick  it  out.  It's  the  direct  primary  that's  doing  the  busi- 
ness and  it's  doing  it  good  and  proper." 

"How  about  the  new  boss  that  will  come  in  to  take  its 
place,  Courtenay  ?  You  know  as  well  as  I  that  when  one 
political  boss  goes  it's  always  to  make  room  for  another. 
That's  according  to  the  law  of  nature,  I  suppose." 

"It'll  be  many  a  long  day,  I  want  to  tell  you,  before 
there's  another  boss  in  California  with  the  wealth  and 
power  and  eternal  vigilance  behind  it  that  this  big,  dom- 
inating corporation  has,  and  don't  you  forget  it,  Geoffrey 
Canterbury." 

"Well,  I've  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  the  Great  South- 
ern one  way  and  another  in  my  day  and  I've  got  to  see 
the  first  money  improperly  used  by  its  representatives. 
There's  a  good  deal  more  bluster  than  actual  wrong-do- 
ing, I  imagine." 

"And  why  have  you  failed  to  see  it,  Geoff?  Don't  you 
give  the  railway  people  credit  for  being  clever  enough  to 
spot  the  men  that'll  either  nibble  at  a  bribe  or  swallow 


THE    STANDPATTER  41 

it  whole  ?  There's  a  ring  within  a  ring — an  outer  and  an 
inner  circle  in  this  iniquitous  business — and  you're  too 
straight,  old  man,  to  get  into  the  'star  chamber'  where 
they  concoct  their  infernal  schemes.  Another  thing,"  he 
continued,  "you  know  what  this  division  in  the  district 
committee  signifies?" 

"You  mean  the  Progressives  will  have  a  candidate  in 
the  field  next  year?  Oh,  I  know  that's  a  part  of  their 
plan,  all  right,  but  I  don't  look  for  much  trouble.  Who's 
talked  of?  Heard  any  names  mentioned? 

"Well,  they're  talking  of  putting  up  Shirley  Cravath 
against  you.  I  don't  think  much  of  the  fellow  myself, 
but  he's  solid  with  the  new  gang,  I  understand.  At  the 
present  writing  he's  running  around  the  state  with  the 
automobile  crowd,  thick  as  peas  in  a  pod,  making  him- 
self solid  with  ranchmen  and  their  wives  and  pretty 
daughters,  too,  for  he's  a  widower,  in  a  way." 

"A  widower,  in  a  way;  that's  rich — a  widower,  so  to 
speak.  A  divorce,  eh?" 

"So  I've  heard.  Well,  the  women  attend  these  outdoor 
meetings,  at  any  rate.  A  big  touring  car  rolls  into  a  vil- 
lage— two  or  three  of  them,  perhaps,  and  it's  mighty  im- 
pressive. If  there  hasn't  been  a  forerider  to  arrange  ev- 
erything according  to  Hoyle,  they  trust  to  a  mighty 
jingle  of  cow-bells  attached  to  their  big  machines  to  an- 
nounce their  approach,  and  before  you  can  say  'Jack 
Robinson'  some  one  will  be  up  giving  a  rattling  talk 
from  the  tonneau  to  the  crowd  on  the  street  corner." 

"That's  interesting.  But  where  do  you  draw  the  line, 
pray,  between  the  private  car  of  the  railroad  magnate 
who  is  passing  along  the  line  laying  his  wires,  which, 
after  all,  is  a  part  of  his  business,  a  legitimate  part,  I 
might  say,  and  the  motor-car  of  a  prospective  governor 
and  his  henchmen  ?  It's  a  clear  case  of  swapping  bosses, 
I  tell  you." 

"Now,  be  ^reasonable,  my  boy.  Jump  into  the  band 
wagon;  join 'the  automobile  brigade.  Above  all  things, 
save  your  own  bacon.  Put  young  Cravath  out  of  busi- 
ness." 

"I'm  no  chameleon,  Jim,  neither  am  I  a  monkey  hop- 
ping from  one  limb  to  another." 

"No,  you're  a  block  of  granite  from  the  eternal  hills 


42  THE    STANDPATTER 

up  there,  that's  what  you  are;  but,  for  heaven's  sake, 
don't  let  yourself  become  a  fossil  or  an  Egyptian 
mummy.  Promise  me  to  think  about  this,  at  least." 

"Certainly,  I'll  do  that,  Jim.  Don't  think  I  fail  to  ap- 
preciate your  kindness.  You've  been  a  mighty  clever 
friend  to  me.  Well,  good-bye." 

"So-long." 

It  was  a  wearisome  day,  truly.  The  score  or  more  of 
ranchmen  with  whom  Geoffrey  chatted  sounded  the 
same  note  with  a  few  variations  in  the  minor  chords. 

There  was  old  Ezra  Goodrich.  Everybody  knew  the 
old  man;  rich  as  a  lord,  his  wealth  realized  from  his 
lemon  groves.  Geoffrey  took  his  noonday  meal  on  the 
pretty  vine-covered  porch  on  the  Goodrich  ranchhouse. 
At  the  table  old  Ezra  almost  wept  over  the  recent  in- 
crease in  freight  rates  to  which  Bettina  had  referred  on 
the  previous  day. 

The  old  lemon-grower  looked  to  Mr.  Canterbury,  he 
said,  and  to  him  alone,  to  have  this  grievous  injustice 
made  right.  He  would  have  influence  with  the  railroad 
people.  "The  old  rate  must  be  restored,"  he  wailed,  "or 
we'll  go  to  the  demnition  bow-wows."  He  implored  him 
to  safeguard  their  interests  by  standing  like  a  Roman 
for  a  higher  duty  on  California's  famous  product. 

As  a  representative  of  the  state  and  its  citrus  inter- 
ests, he  said,  he  had  faith  to  believe  that  Geoffrey  would 
be  willing  to  sacrifice  every  other  interest  to  the  one 
supreme  end  of  protecting  the  lemon  industry. 

The  younger  man  smiled  indulgently.  His  talk  with 
Bettina  was  still  in  mind.  He  assured  his  host  that  he 
would  do  what  he  could,  but  if  he  did  all  that  was  ex- 
pected of  him  his  hands  would  be,  indeed,  full. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  perplexing  issues  of  the  day  were 
pressed  upon  Geoffrey,  one  by  one.  He  was  glad  when 
he  found  himself  in  the  quiet  home  shelter  after  his  rasp- 
ing day,  and  he  promised  himself  an  evening  undisturbed 
by  politics.  Long  ago  he  had  adopted  the  rule  of  keeping 
his  worries  to  himself,  sharing  only  the  pleasures  and 
emoluments  of  public  life  with  his  mother. 

In  her  indulgent  eyes  he  was  Geoffrey  the  Conqueror. 


THE    STANDPATTER  43 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"You'll  please  give  an  account  of  yourself,  maman." 
As  he  spoke,  Geoffrey  threw  himself  lazily  on  the  settle 
which  flanked  the  open  fireplace  where  lay  a  bed  of  glow- 
ing embers  that  cast  a  grateful  warmth  throughout  the 
big  living  room.  It  was  early  twilight. 

"I  see  you  took  advantage  of  my  absence  to  don  your 
prettiest  frock,  and  sally  forth  to  see  and  be  seen." 

The  young  man  settled  himself  comfortably  among 
the  cushions  and  cast  a  quizzical  glance  at  his  mother. 
Their  camaraderie  was  pleasant  to  see.  Plainly  the  door 
opening  into  the  troublesome  outer  world — the  world  of 
party  disintegration — was  to  be  closed  and  bolted  for  a 
time. 

Madame  Canterbury,  delicate,  refined,  placid,  with 
high-bred  demeanor,  was  good  to  look  upon,  despite  the 
wear  and  tear  of  years.  Her  dark  eyes  had  lost  little  of 
their  brilliancy;  her  soft,  snow-white  hair,  dressed  a  la 
pompadour  and  with  evident  care,  brought  into  fine  re- 
lief her  low,  broad  forehead.  She  wore  a  modish  after- 
noon gown  of  a  delicate  mauve  shade  that  was  highly 
becoming.  There  was  an  abundance  of  old  lace,  full 
and  soft,  about  the  slender  white  throat  and  delicate 
wrists.  Looking  up  with  a  smile  from  the  ball  of  bright 
worsted  she  was  winding,  she  asked : 

"Where  shall  I  begin,  Geoffrey?  Truly  I  feel  as  if  I'd 
been  to  an  exposition.  There's  so  much  to  interest  one 
in  the  masterful  way  that  dilapidated  old  villa's  being 
transformed,  both  without  and  within.  What  a  tremen- 
dous power  money  is!" 

"Why,  of  course;  but  I  hadn't  thought  of  it  in  that 
particular  connection.  Some  other  things  are  so  much 
more  vital  than  money." 

"You  mea'n  that  the  real  miracle  is  the  girl  herself." 

"Yes ;  her  personality  is  the  thing  that  counts,  I  should 
say.  It's  the  supreme  force,  not  her  money." 

"Oh,  of  course  it  is.  I  grant  that  she's  remarkable  in 
many  ways;  in  fact,  she's  altogether  adorable;  but,  after 
all,  Geoffrey,  it's  her  money  that  will  be  responsible  for 


44  THE    STANDPATTER 

the  reclamation  of  Aztec  Lodge.  I'm  glad  she  has  the 
good  sense  to  use  her  riches  so  wisely." 

"But  why  has  she  undertaken  all  this?  It  would  be 
interesting,  wouldn't  it,  to  know  her  real,  underlying 
motive." 

"I  fancy  I  understand  her  pretty  well." 

"Well,  I  don't.  The  whole  proposition  is  unfathom- 
able to  me.  How  do  you  size  up  the  case,  Mother?" 

"To  begin  with,"  replied  Madame  Canterbury,  judi- 
cially, "the  girl's  absurdly  modern — bristling  all  over  with 
up-to-dateness,  you  know." 

She  spoke  slowly  as  if  weighing  her  words. 

"She's  very  young,  and  still  under  the  spell  of  her  col- 
lege. She  breathes  its  scientific  atmosphere  and  follows 
its  avenues  of  research  with  a  feverish,  youthful  enthu- 
siasm, which  she  will  lose  in  time,  no  doubt,  and  may  be 
all  the  better  for  losing.  She  dreams  dreams,  not  exactly 
'the  children  of  an  idle  brain/  either;  and  she  proposes 
to  use  her  fortune,  the  possession  of  which  I  imagine  she 
almost  regrets,  to  help  her  realize  her  dreams.  In  addi- 
tion to  her  scientific  ardor,  the  girl  has  imbibed  many  of 
the  popular  political  notions  of  the  day,  too.  She  has  her 
own  ideas  of  good  citizenship,  equality  between  man  and 
man,  talks  about  the  Initiative,  Referendum  and  Recall 
as  if  they  were  so  many  old  friends;  has  something  to 
say  about  the  right  of  the  people  to  rule,  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing.  I  see  her  reading  is  largely  in  those  directions." 

"But  will  she  hold  out  in  what  she's  undertaken,  or  is 
this  merely  the  passing  fad  of  a  college  girl?  the  whim 
of  a  restless  co-ed?" 

"Oh,  the  girl  has  determination,  a  lot  of  it,  but  the 
strength  of  her  purpose  will  depend  on  her  own  future; 
and,  naturally,  her  future  rests,  as  must  the  future  of 
every  normal  woman,  largely  with  the  man  she  marries." 

Geoffrey  gave  a  perceptible  start  which  did  not  escape 
the  eyes  of  his  mother. 

"What  do  you  know  about  her  marriage?"  he  asked, 
rather  brusquely.  "Is  she  supposed  to  be  engaged  to 
one  of  those  college  chaps?" 

"Hardly,  I  reckon.  I  know  nothing  whatever  about 
it;  but  she'll  not  remain  single  long  for  want  of  a  chance 
to  wed,  you  may  be  sure  of  that." 


THE    STANDPATTER  45 

The  suggestion  of  the  possible  marriage  of  Bettina  was 
disturbing  to  Geoffrey.  Like  most  unwelcome  thoughts, 
once  it  had  gained  a  foothold,  it  refused  to  be  shaken  off. 

Safely  in  his  den,  to  which  he  went  an  hour  later  to 
finish  a  piece  of  writing  begun  earlier  in  the  evening,  he 
found  himself  still  thinking  about  his  fair  young 
neighbor. 

It  had  dawned  upon  him  that,  unconsciously,  in  spite 
of  himself,  perhaps,  the  girl  was  occupying  much  of  his 
thought  these  days;  too  much,  he  told  himself.  He  had 
believed  himself  proof  against  affaires  de  coeur,  and  here 
he  was  absorbingly  interested  in  a  girl  he  had  known  only 
a  week.  It  was  the  suggestion  of  her  marriage,  falling 
so  innocently  from  his  mother's  lips,  that  brought  the 
awakening.  He  was  a  ridiculous  old  fool,  he  told  him- 
self, to  think  of  her  for  a  moment.  A  man  of  thirty- 
eight  years  must  seem  a  veritable  Methusaleh  to  a  girl 
entering  her  twenties.  He  resolved  to  see  her  but  once 
more  before  his  departure  for  the  east,  and  that  should 
be  a  farewell  visit;  that  much  was  due  her. 

"What  mother  says  is  true,  absolutely  true,"  he  said, 
"but  how  could  she  speak  so  calmly — with  cool  indif- 
ference— of  the  marriage  of  a  girl  like  Bettina?  Natu- 
rally, such  a  girl  is  troubled  by  no  lack  of  suitors,  and 
it's  only  reasonable  that  the  right  one — 'the  man  of  des- 
tiny'— should,  in  time,  appear."  And  so  his  mind  ran  on. 
He  recalled  a  bit  of  current  gossip  about  a  recent  bride 
of  his  acquaintance,  to  the  effect  that  she  had  had  no  less 
than  forty-two  proposals  of  marriage  before  the  one  ap- 
peared who,  the  Fates  decreed,  should  close  her  career 
of  conquest;  and  he  wondered  if  Bettina  were  passing 
through  some  such  ordeal. 

Geoffrey  had  never  been  indifferent  to  women,  neither 
had  he  been  what  is  known  as  a  "lady's  man."  He  en- 
joyed the  society  of  the  fair  sex,  could  make  himself  at- 
tractive to  them,  had  always  seen  a  good  deal  of  women, 
both  east  and  west. 

Only  once  had  he  seriously  fallen  a  victim  to  the  tender 
passion.  It  was  during  his  college  days.  He  had  pro- 
posed to  Mildred  Maxwell ;  she  had  accepted  with  every 
assurance  of  the  deepest  affection.  All  went  merrily  for- 
ward, they  were  royally  happy,  until  he  told  her  one  day, 


46  THE    STANDPATTER 

quite  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  his  mother,  the  dearest 
mother  in  the  world — would  share  their  home. 

Never  would  he  be  able  to  forget  the  way  Mildred 
turned  on  him.  Her  anger  made  her  momentarily  a 
savage,  cruel  and  relentless.  "You  will  choose  between 
us,"  she  cried  out.  "If  a  house  were  a  mile  long  it 
wouldn't  be  big  enough  for  me  and  your  mother." 

Geoffrey's  disillusionment  was  complete.  He  made  his 
choice  there  and  then.  He  couldn't  do  it  quickly  enough. 
The  engagement  was  broken  and  for  the  next  few  years 
he  tried  to  forget  the  bitter  experience,  and  succeeded  so 
well  that  when  Mildred's  marriage  to  a  former  college 
chum  was  announced  he  was  conscious  of  not  a  single 
regret  on  her  account.  His  letter  of  congratulation  was 
warm  and  measurably  sincere,  but  deep  down  in  his 
heart  he  had  a  feeling  akin  to  pity  for  his  good  friend 
who,  in  time,  would  find  himself  tied  to  a  woman,  selfish, 
shallow,  and  cold-hearted.  As  for  himself,  he  said  he 
would,  in  all  probability,  never  marry,  or,  if  at  all,  late 
in  life,  as  he  would  never  forsake  a  mother  who  had  sac- 
rificed so  much  for  him  in  the  days  of  his  struggle  for  a 
foothold  in  his  profession. 

Geoffrey  took  an  early  car  for  the  city  the  next  morn- 
ing. 

The  new  electric  interurban  with  its  neat  little  station, 
"Canterbury,"  at  the  point  where  the  trolley  crossed  the 
line  of  the  Great  Southern,  together  with  its  twenty- 
minute  service,  was  proving  a  boon  to  the  residents  of 
that  section.  As  for  Geoffrey,  he  had  become  an  enthu- 
siastic patron  of  the  road.  How  he  was  enjoying  this 
early  morning  .ride  through  the  peaceful  valley!  The 
air  was  filled  with  the  scent  of  a  thousand  roses  that 
grew  in  splendid  profusion  along  the  hedge  rows.  The 
liquid  song  of  the  meadow-lark  and  the  rapturous  note 
of  the  mocking-bird  thrilled  him  to  the  heart.  He 
thanked  God  for  the  man  who  first  discovered  California. 
His  depression  of  the  evening  before  had  disappeared. 
The  radiance  of  a  California  morning  is  a  fine  stimulant. 

Politics  had  played  havoc  with  Geoffrey  Canterbury's  law 
practice.  His  partner,  Robert  Hendershott,  was  the  active 
member  of  the  firm,  the  understanding  being  that  when 
at  home  Geoffrey  was  to  drop  in  from  time  to  time  for 


THE    STANDPATTER  47 

conference.  The  actual  conduct  of  cases  was  to  rest  with 
Hendershott,  to  the  regret  of  a  large  clientele,  who  had 
for  years  pinned  their  faith  to  the  name  "Canterbury." 

On  his  arrival  in  the  city  Geoffrey,  as  usual,  made  a 
bee-line  for  the  office. 

"Hello,  Bobby,"  he  called  out  as  he  shot  in  at  the  door. 
"How's  everything?" 

"Why,  how-de-do,  Geoff?    You're  an  early  bird." 

"Yes;  got  the  seven-twenty  this  morning.  Anything 
new?" 

"Oh,  everything's  about  so-so,  I  guess.  How's  poli- 
tics this  fine  morning?  What  are  your  plans  for  saving 
the  nation,  old  boy?" 

"Well,  I  have  a  few  things  on  cooking.  There's  a 
meeting  of  the  district  committee  at  eleven.  That's  im- 
portant." 

"Lord,  I  should  say  it  was." 

"And  I'm  to  meet  Billy  Crewe  at  the  Cherokee.  How's 
that  for  diplomacy?" 

"What?  You  don't  mean  that  little  scamp  from  the 
G.  S?  Take  care,  old  man.  There's  generally  a  cullud 
pusson  of  large  proportion  in  the  wood  pile  when  that 
sleek  individual's  round.  He's  slippery  as  an  eel.  Never 
was  known  to  keep  a  promise ;  wiggles  right  out  of  it." 

"Oh,  I  can  handle  him  all  right.  I  haven't  yet  become 
so  cowardly  that  I  refuse  to  see  a  man  because  he's  con- 
nected with  a  railroad." 

"I  advise  you  to  be  cautious,  that's  all.  By  the  way," 
continued  Hendershott,  "shall  we  or  shall  we  not  tie 
ourselves  up  with  the  lemon-growers  in  this  freight  fight? 
A  half  dozen  men  from  the  upper  valley  and  the  'foot- 
hills have  been  in  to  see  me.  I  put  them  off,  but  I  can't 
evade  the  direct  issue  much  longer." 

"You  were  right  to  take  it  under  advisement.  I  prom- 
ise to  do  what  I  can  for  the  fruit  interests  of  Southern 
California,  both  through  the  Interstate  Commerce  Com- 
mission and  on  the  floor  of  the  house — but  otherwise, 
let  it  be  hands  off.  Well,  I'll  see  you  later."  Geoffrey 
gathered  up  his  hat  and  hurried  away. 


48  THE    STANDPATTER 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  meeting  of  the  district  central  committee,  like  so 
many  of  its  kind,  was  tempestuous. 

It  was  held  in  "Parlor  D"  of  the  Elcazar  Hotel.  There 
was  not  a  politician  in  all  the  southland  who  did  not 
know  the  room.  People  said  that  United  States  Senators 
had  been  made  and  unmade  within  its  tarnished  walls; 
that  it  was  the  birthplace,  and  sometimes  the  burial  place, 
of  governors  and  congressmen;  that  the  various  planks 
comprising  the  platforms  over  which  boisterous  state 
conventions  had  wrangled  and  torn  their  hair,  metaphor- 
ically speaking,  had  been  first  hewn  into  shape,  the  edges 
beveled  and  the  corners  rounded,  at  its  big  mahogany 
table. 

Precisely  on  the  stroke  of  eleven  Geoffrey  entered. 
Promptness  in  meeting  engagements  had  come  to  be  a 
religion  with  him.  A  variation  from  the  minute  either 
way  was  not  permissible  under  his  code. 

He  found  the  table  already  well  surrounded,  the  air 
dense  and  blue  and  tainted,  so  stifling,  withal,  that  he 
hurried  to  the  window  and  was  about  to  throw  it  open 
to  the  fresh,  warm  breezes,  when  Jim  Courtenay  called 
out :  "Hold  on,  Canterbury ;  better  let  the  window  alone. 
We  don't  want  exactly  to  take  the  public  into  our  confi- 
dence this  morning.  It's  to  be  our  own  happy  family  cir- 
cle, a  genuine  love  feast,  if  you  please." 

"All  right,  Jim ;"  and  Geoffrey,  shaking  hands  with 
half  a  dozen  who  were  nearest,  and  nodding  to  as  many 
more,  joined  the  group  around  the  table. 

The  entrance  of  Colonel  Ricketts  a  moment  later 
caused  a  palpable  hush.  The  fact  was,  his  presence  at 
the  meeting  was  a  surprise.  Since  their  last  assemblage 
the  colonel  was  supposed  to  have  seen  a  new  light.  It 
had  been  announced  through  the  press,  over  his  own 
signature,  in  a  manner  flamboyant  and  grandiose,  that 
he  had,  politically  speaking,  experienced  a  change  of 
heart.  He  stated  further  that  he  had  been  handicapped 
in  the  past  by  his  connections,  but  had  no  intention  of 
permitting  the  stifling  restraint  to  continue.  It  was,  for 


;He  found  the  table  already  well  surrounded1 


THE    STANDPATTER  49 

this  reason,  his  purpose  to  withdraw  immediately  from 
the  district  committee  with  which  he  no  longer  was  in 
harmony. 

The  routine  business  was  barely  concluded  when 
Colonel  Ricketts  arose  with  a  slowness  and  dignity  noth- 
ing short  of  majestic.  He  was  a  short,  portly,  pompous- 
looking  man  of  forty.  People  said  that  he  had  an  ex- 
aggerated idea  of  his  own  importance;  and  appearances 
bore  out  the  truth  of  the  statement. 

He  was  often  referred  to  as  the  "Little  Colonel,"  a 
title  about  which  were  conflicting  opinions.  His  friends 
asserted  that  the  diminutive  stood  for  the  affectionate 
regard  of  his  fellowmen,  and  his  enemies — for  mild-man- 
nered though  he  was,  he  was  not  without  enemies — that 
it  was  a  sobriquet  of  derision :  all  of  which  is  evidence 
more  or  less  conclusive  that  the  "Little  Colonel,"  who 
accepted  the  title  in  the  same  spirit  as  he  believed  had 
been  evinced  by  a  certain  "Little  Corporal"  of  interesting 
historic  memory,  was,  after  all,  a  man  of  parts. 

It  may  be  said,  parenthetically,  that  the  colonel's  real 
weakness,  according  to  best  authorities,  was  a  passion 
for  being  found  on  the  winning  side.  In  his  eyes  "the 
glory  of  the  conquered"  was  a  wicked  delusion.  He  de- 
spised a  minority  and  refused  to  be  associated  with  one, 
if  he  knew  it. 

He  was  noticeably  agitated  as  he  arose.  The  pink  and 
mellow  hand  with  which  he  adjusted  his  black-rimmed 
eyeglasses  trembled  visibly.  The  veins  in  his  high  fore- 
head became  suddenly  prominent. 

He  began  by  saying  that  he  had  thought  best  to  reduce 
what  he  proposed  to  say  to  writing  so  that  he  could 
prove  what  he  had  said  and  what  he  had  not  said.  The 
package  he  would  hand  them,  he  declared,  was  not  tied 
up  with  political  red-tape.  It  would  come  as  a  message 
direct  from  the  heart. 

His  resignation  from  the  committee  followed.  He 
begged  that  it  should  be  accepted  without  delay. 

He  then  reviewed  what  he  was  pleased  to  term  the 
"political  renaissance  of  California,"  dwelling  with  em- 
phasis upon  the  days,  not  so  far  past,  either,  when  "every 
last  man  of  us  was  under  the  big,  broad  thumb  of  the 


50  THE    STANDPATTER 

Great  Southern  system,  and  no  one  knows  this  better 
than  do  my  esteemed  colleagues  of  this  committee." 

Several  sprang  excitedly  to  their  feet  at  this,  actuated 
by  an  evident  desire  to  refute  a  statement  so  sweeping, 
but  they  sat  down  as  suddenly  as  they  had  risen  upon 
the  chairman's  amiable  drawl : 

"Colonel  Ricketts  has  the  floor." 

The  colonel  resumed  his  remarks  by  calling  to  mind 
the  bold  and  unscrupulous  attempt  of  the  political  ma- 
chine to  readjust  certain  county  geographical  lines  in 
order  the  more  easily  to  carry  forward  its  schemes  for 
state  control. 

"That's  ancient  history,  Colonel,  give  us  something 
new,"  came  from  the  farther  end  of  the  table. 

"Gentlemen,  I  want  to  tell  you  that  it's  as  black  a  page 
of  history,  ancient  or  modern,  as  has  ever  been  writ  of 
any  state  or  nation.  You  may  want  to  give  it  a  coating  of 
whitewash.  I  do  not.  It's  black  because  it  spells  cor- 
ruption in  high;  places.  It  tells  a  stc.y  of  bribery,  of 
special  privilege,  of  private  greed,  of  absolute  rottenness. 
Who  is  so  dead  to  decency  as  to  calmly  witness  a  'grand 
larceny  of  delegates,'  as  some  one  has  aptly  called  it?" 

"There's  but  one  redeeming  feature  in  this  attempted 
outrage  upon  the  popular  will,"  continued  the  colonel. 
"Maybe  in  the  final  analysis  there  is  something  for  which 
to  be  grateful.  We  should  at  least  thank  God  for  that 
last  straw  that  broke  the  camel's  back;  thank  God  and 
take  courage,  for,  because  of  that,  men  came  forward 
brave  enough,  to  take  up  the  cudgel  against  that  power- 
ful corporation  with  its  innumerable  tentacles,  its  end- 
less ramifications.  They  fought  like  tigers  to  put  out  of 
commission  the  fraudulent  election  machinery  that  had 
been  set  up  and  put  in  motion.  It's  a  long  story,  gentle- 
men ;  you  know,  and  so  do  I,  that  we  have  progressive 
republicanism  to  thank  for  a  new  order  of  things  in  Cal- 
ifornia;  we  have  the  progressive  element  to  thank  for 
putting  the  right  kind  of  a  man  in  the  executive  chair, 
and,  more  than  that,  we  have  this  same  progressive  ele- 
ment made  up  of  the  younger  men  of  the  state,  men  of 
brains  and  principle,  to  thank  for  enacting  into  law  every 
declaration  of  the  republican  platform.  It's  the  first 


THE    STANDPATTER  51 

time  in  the  history  of  any  state  that  every  platform  prom- 
ise has  been  put  into  law.  Isn't  that  a  triumph? 

"That  there  have  been  mistakes  no  one  will  deny,  but 
they  have  been  mistakes  of  judgment  only.  We  have 
made  giant  strides  in  reform.  All  that  I  ask  is  that  this 
committee,  every  member  of  which  I  esteem  and  shall 
continue  to  esteem  as  a  personal  friend,  shall  join  hands 
with  the  men  who  are  wresting  the  power  from  the  big 
corporations,  from  big  business,  and  placing  it  where  it 
belongs — with  the  people." 

The  colonel  sat  down,  mopping  great  beads  of  per- 
spiration from  his  heated  brow.  He  had  made  the  effort 
of  his  life ;  he  had  fully  realized  that  he  was  face  to  face 
with  the  "psychological  moment." 

There  was  dead  silence  for  the  space  of  a  minute.  All 
eyes  turned  to  Geoffrey  Canterbury.  He  rose  to  his  feet 
and  began  to  speak  very  deliberately.  There  was  a  pallor 
in  his  face,  an  intensity  in  his  expression.  He  looked  like 
a  man  armed  with  the  rectitude  of  a  great  purpose.  His 
voice  was  vibrant,  and  it  carried  a  dominant  note.  He 
said  he  had  listened  with  deep  interest  to  what  his  good 
friend,  Colonel  Ricketts,  had  said  in  his  view  of  the  pres- 
ent political  situation.  He  agreed  with  him  that  a  degree 
of  progress  had  been  made,  noticeably  in  the  control  of 
corporations.  He  rejoiced  that  such  was  the  case.  He 
believed  in  controlling  corporations,  not  in  strangling  the 
life  out  of  them.  He  liked  to  think  this  was  a  country  in 
which  both  rich  and  poor  were  given  absolute  justice. 

He  had  once  visited  a  great  hospital  in  Berlin,  he  said 
— the  Virchow  Hospital — and  over  the  door  he  had  read 
the  motto :  "Treat  the  disease  but  do  not  forget  to  treat 
the  man."  The  difficulty  with  the  progressive  policy  of 
to-day  was  its  determination  to  wipe  out  both  the  disease 
and  the  man. 

Many  of  the  so  called  progressive  leaders  were  in 
reality,  the  most  dangerous  reactionaries,  he  said,  and 
time  would  prove  the  truth  of  his  assertion.  Take,  for 
example,  he  continued,  the  men  who  were  demanding  the 
recall  of  judges.  There  was  a  doctrine  revolutionary  in 
the  extreme,  subversive  of  every  sound  principle  of  gov- 
ernment. The  next  step  to  which  it  would  naturally  lead 
would  be  to  the  recall  of  judges'  decisions — indeed,  there 


52  THE    STANDPATTER 

were  those  wild  enough  to  advocate  such  recall  even 
now. 

For  his  part,  he  said,  he  loved  his  country  too  well,  he 
loved  his  state  too  much,  willingly  to  place  the  highest 
interests  of  state  and  nation  in  the  hands  of  dreamers 
who  fancied  themselves  statesmen.  The  country  must 
be  governed  by  sentiment,  not  by  sentimentality.  They 
would  serve  state  and  country  best,  he  believed,  who 
stood  like  a  stone  wall  for  time-honored  traditions  and 
time-honored  principles.  He  sincerely  hoped  that  in  the 
interests  of  honest,  old-fashioned  republicanism,  the  re- 
publicanism of  Lincoln  and  of  McKinley,  Colonel  Rick- 
etts  would  reconsider  his  resignation  and  withdraw  it. 

There  was  a  stir  all  around  the  table  as  Geoffrey  sat 
down,  and  a  mild  round  of  applause.  The  absence  of 
enthusiasm  was  marked,  almost  painful. 

Colonel  Ricketts  picked  up  his  hat,  reached  over  and 
offered  his  pudgy  hand  to  Geoffrey  in  a  friendly  way, 
and  with  a  wave  of  his  hat  to  the  others  left  the  room 
without  a  word. 


THE    STANDPATTER  53 


CHAPTER  X. 

Geoffrey  took  luncheon  at  the  Elcazar  with  half  a 
dozen  members  of  the  district  committee,  a  coterie  of 
men  who  swore  by  him,  personal  supporters  to  a  man, 
and  a  right  jolly  little  party  it  was,  despite  the  exciting 
events  of  the  morning. 

They  talkeu  iast  and  hard,  as  politicians  will,  about 
everything  under  the  sun  except  that  which  was  upper- 
most in  the  mind  of  each — the  political  situation.  They 
laughed  good  naturedly,  and  sometimes  uproariously,  at 
each  other's  jokes,  vied  with  one  another  in  spinning 
yarns  and  were  altogether  the  envy,  because  of  the  roy- 
ally good  time  they  were  having,  of  the  more  subdued 
guests  in  the  ornate  little  Japanese  tearoom  to  which  the 
obsequious  waiter  had  conducted  them. 

And  the  merriest  and  wittiest  of  all,  the  most  exuber- 
ant in  spirits,  was  the  Honorable  Geoffrey  Canterbury. 
He  was  at  his  best,  apparently  at  peace  with  all  mankind. 
Always  a  brilliant  dinner  guest,  he  was  surpassingly  so 
on  this  occasion.  His  fund  of  anecdotes  seemed  inex- 
haustible, his  humor  irresistible. 

The  merry  repast  over,  each  went  his  own  way.  There 
was  a  clink  of  silver  on  the  one  hand  and  a  wreath 
of  smiles  on  the  other,  as  Geoffrey  and  the  attentive 
waiter  parted  company,  and  the  former  hurried  over  to 
the  Cherokee  in  order  to  keep  his  appointment  with 
Billy  Crewe. 

Just  as  he  was  walking  around  the  first  corner  he  ran 
into  a  group  of  young*  people.  He  would  have  passed 
them  by  unnoticed,  intent  on  his  own  thoughts,  had  not 
his  own  name  attracted  his  attention. 

"Why,  Mr.  Canterbury,  is  it  really  you?" 

It  was  Bettina  Brigham,  who  forthwith  extended  a 
white-gloved' hand  to  him — Bettina  clad  in  a  bewildering 
suit  of  blue  with  nodding  plumes  in  her  big  picture  hat 
and  an  air  of  regal  distinction,  hitherto  quite  unsuspected. 
Clearly  Geoffrey's  head  was  in  something  of  a  whirl  as  he 
grasped  the  extended  hand.  With  Bettina  was  a  strik- 


54  THE    STANDPATTER 

ingly  pretty  girl,  a  dashing  brunette,  tall,  like  herself, 
and  two  young  men. 

"It  certainly's  nobody  else,  Miss  Brigham.  But  what 
does  this  mean?  I'm  amazed  to  see  you  this  distance 
from  the  ranch." 

"Oh,  I'm  far  from  a  fixture  there  or  anywhere.  You 
don't  know  what  a  frightful  gadabout  I  am.  But  come 
over  here  a  bit  out  of  the  whirl  and  meet  my  friends. 

"Miss  Marcia  Duffield  of  Berkeley,  my  college  chum, 
has  just  arrived;  Miss  Duffield,  allow  me  to  present  the 
Honorable  Mr.  Canterbury. 

"And  here  is  Mr.  Ward  Percival,  whom  you  already 
know,  I  think — you  ought  to,  at  least,  seeing  he's  the 
grand  editorial  mogul  of  the  Star — and 

"Mr.  Philip  Ingalls,  a  son  of  Dr.  Templeton  Ingalls  of 
St.  Thomas's  pro-cathedral.  Everybody  knows  Dr.  In- 
galls, and  the  son's  a  chip  off  the  old  block,  Uncle  Hare- 
dale  says." 

"You  might  explain,  Bettina,  that,  while  Dr.  Ingalls  is 
fitting  people  for  heavenly  mansions,  his  only  son  contents 
himself  with  planning  earthly  ones  for  any  who  may  desire 
them." 

"And  who  has  the  wherewithal,"  added  Phil. 

"Don't  make  a  joke  of  sacred  things,  Ward." 

Geoffrey  shook  hands  cordially  and  exchanged  some 
side  remarks  with  Ward,  whom  he  recognized  imme- 
diately. 

"How  did  you  come  in,  Miss  Brigham?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  we  motored  in.  I  was  obliged  to  reach  the  city 
early  in  order  to  meet  Miss  Duffield's  train,  you  see — " 

"Poor,  helpless  Miss  Duffield!"  interrupted  the  young 
lady  herself.  "She  couldn't  make  her  way  to  a  hotel,  of 
course.  She's  too  frightfully  inexperienced  and  unso- 
phisticated. Never  was  away  from  home  before,"  and 
she  laughed  mockingly. 

"Neither  Ward  nor  I  could  have  found  the  station  at 
that  impossible  hour.  It's  a  regular  morning  nap  or 

Cerish,  with  us.    It  just  had  to  be  Bettina,"  and  they  all 
mghed  at  Philip's  cynicism. 

"Stop  abusing  Miss  Brigham  of  Aztec  Lodge.  Have 
you  no  respect  for  ourjanded  gentry?  I'm  mighty  glad 


THE    STANDPATTER  55 

to  have  her  come  to  town  on  any  old  pretext,"  said  Ward. 
"I'm  the  only  friend  you've  got  in  this  crowd,  Bettina." 

Bettina  smiled  gaily.  "Friend  or  foe,  it's  much  the 
same  to  me.  It's  simply  bliss  to  be  around  with  the  old 
crowd  once  more.  That's  enough  joy  for  one  day.  I 
didn't  know  how  sadly  I'd  missed  you  all. 

"But  I've  just  been  thinking,"  and  she  turned  to  Geof- 
frey, "that  maybe  you  could  join  us  for  the  home  trip. 
There's  room  and  to  spare  in  the  car,  and  Miss  Duffield 
and  I  would  be  delighted  to  have  you  with  us." 

"Thanks,  and  I  equally  pleased  to  go,  I  assure  you,  if 
I  can  manage  to  wade  through  a  rather  formidable  list 
of  engagements." 

"Oh,  we  shall  not  leave  till  five  or  later.  I've  a  num- 
ber of  things  to  do  myself.  For  instance,  there's  a  short 
session  of  the  library  board  which  I'm  obliged  to  attend." 

"That  reminds  me,  Bettina,"  interrupted  Philip,  "that 
I've  had  no  opportunity  to  extend  congratulations  since 
your  election  as  secretary  of  the  board,"  and  he  grasped 
her  hand.  "I'd  have  been  mighty  well  pleased  if  they'd 
made  you  president." 

"Thank  you,  Phil.  They  weren't  exactly  looking  for 
an  innocent  figurehead  for  the  presidency." 

"No,  but  they  might  enjoy  an  ornamental  one." 

"I'm  really  not  entitled  to  the  honor,"  said  Bettina, 
"seeing  I'm  lacking  in  experience,  and,  besides,  no  longer 
a  resident  of  the  city;  but  I'm  pleased  to  be  a  member 
of  the  board  and  glad  to  work  for  a  better  library.  The 
secretaryship  gives  me  a  chance  to  put  in  some  effective 
strokes  for  better  library  conditions,  you  see.  We've 
some  big  plans  ahead  for  a  splendid  new  building,  also 
for  traveling  libraries,  and  for  the  general  enlargement 
of  the  library  itself. — I  tell  you,  it's  badly  needed  in  a  city 
of  this  size. 

"But  I  was  'bout  to  say,  Mr.  Canterbury,  that  you 
might  meet  us  about  five  o'clock  at  the  Elcazar,  if  you 
will — ladies'  entrance — we  are  on  our  way  there  now  and 
shall  have  tea  there  before  starting." 

Geoffrey  promised  to  remember  both  time  and  place, 
then  took  his  leave  and,  consulting  his  watch,  hurried  for- 
ward with  the  embarrassing  consciousness  that  he  would 
be  fully  five  minutes  late  in  meeting  his  appointment.  To 


56  THE    STANDPATTER 

his  infinite  relief,  he  found  that  Crewe  had  not  yet  ap- 
peared. He  sank  into  a  chair  with  a  sense  of  physical 
weariness,  and  yet  with  a  certain  mental  exaltation  from 
his  unexpected  interview  with  Bettina  and  her  friends. 
He  smiled  as  he  thought  of  his  former  stern  resolve  to 
permit  himself  but  one  more  interview,  and  that  to  be 
limited  to  a  farewell  visit ;  but  the  Fates,  which  he  by  no 
means  ignored  altogether,  had  decided  to  take  a  hand  in 
the  matter,  and  what  could  a  man  do  but  submit  to  their 
decree  ?  The  meeting  with  Bettina  was  an  unsettling  ex- 
perience; for  in  defiance  of  his  better  judgment  he  ac- 
knowledged himself  completely  under  her  witchery.  He 
was  positive  that  nothing  but  disappointment  awaited 
him  if  he  permitted  himself  to  indulge  in  the  hope  of 
ever  winning  her,  yet  he  was  glad  that  he  had  fallen  in 
with  her  to-day;  thankful,  too,  for  the  glimpse  he  had  ob- 
tained into  her  world,  so  different  from  his  own,  the  fas- 
cinating world  of  youth  and  beauty,  and  gaiety — and 
yet  of  useful  service,  too.  Above  all,  he  rejoiced  that  the 
door  was  left  ajar,  the  latch-string  out.  The  long  drive 
homeward  with  the  two  girls  was  an  alluring  prospect. 

"Hello,  Canterbury !"  Billy  Crewe  called  out  lustily  as 
he  entered.  "Beg  your  pardon  for  keeping  you  waiting, 
and  your  time  so  valuable,  too.  It's  a  shame,  but  it's 
the  old  story  of  the  man,  the  corner  and  the  buttonhole. 
Can  we  be  sure  of  privacy  here?"  Crewe  looked  around 
suspiciously  as  though  eternal  vigilance  was  the  price  of 
such  liberty  as  he  enjoyed.  He  was  short  of  stature  and 
slight  of  build.  His  bulging  blue  eyes  looked  out  through 
a  pair  of  gold-rimmed  glasses  which  usually  were  seen  to 
rest  far  down  on  his  large,  bulbous  nose.  He  pursued 
business  with  an  intensity  that  was  relentless.  He  had 
neither  time  nor  inclination  for  anything  else. 

"Oh,  we'll  be  reasonably  safe  from  intrusion  here,  I 
think." 

"We'll  take  no  chances,  just  the  same,"  was  Crewe's 
grim  reply,  as  he  closed  the  transom,  then  stepped  to  the 
door  and  turned  the  key  in  the  lock.  He  then  looked  be- 
hind the  pictures  on  the  wall,  as  if  in  search  of  a  hidden 
dictagraph,  and,  finding^-none,  drew  up  a  chair  close  to 
Geoffrey,  mopped  his  brow  vigorously,  blew  his  nose 
with  a  trumpet-like  explosion,  coughed  apologetically — 


THE    STANDPATTER  57 

all  by  way  of  innocently  leading  up  to  the  business  of 
the  hour. 

"When  do  you  start  east,  Mr.  Canterbury?" 

"On  the  tenth,  according  to  present  plans.  That  gives 
me  a  few  days  of  grace  before  the  opening  of  the  session." 

"Time's  coming  pretty  close,  sure  enough.  Well,  it  oc- 
curred to  me  that  there  were  several  little  matters  of 
business  we  ought,  in  all  justice,  to  run  over  before  you 
leave.  It's  well  to  have  an  understanding." 

"All  right,  Billy;  I  want  to  go  back  armed  with  as 
thorough  knowledge  of  local  conditions  as  is  possible. 
My  idea  is  to  be  of  service  to  my  constituency  all  along 
the  line.  Whatever  they  may  say  about  me,  and  heaven 
knows  they're  saying  some  pretty  biting  things  these 
days,  I'm  not  one-sided,  neither  am  I  two-faced.  The 
public  always  knows  about  where  to  find  me." 

"Right  you  are,  and  let  me  tell  you  it's  just  that  broad- 
mindedness  that  the  average  man  likes." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,  Billy;  I  reckon  that's  about 
what  they're  grilling  me  for." 

"I've  heard  many  a  compliment  for  you  on  that  very 
thing. — I  don't  know  how  you  feel  about  it,  Mr.  Canter- 
bury, but  it's  a  principle  with  me  to  fix  up  things  face 
to  face — I  mean  that  I  prefer  to  do  business  by  word  of 
mouth.  It's  more  satisfactory  to  all  concerned;  in  fact, 
it's  the  only  way.  Letters  go  astray,  fall  into  hands  they 
were  never  intended  for,  you  know;  and  the  very  devil's 
to  pay.  As  to  telegrams,  they're  likely  to  be  no  end  of 
a  nuisance.  But  to  get  down  to  business.  Let  me  see," 
and  he  began  to  fumble  in  his  inside  breast  pocket.  "I 
happen  to  have  a  letter  of  introduction  that  Buckman, 
superintendent  of  the  northern  division,  don't  you  know, 
gave  me  with  the  injunction  to  put  it  safely  into  your 
hands — and  here  it  is,  and  my  duty's  discharged. 

"As  you  see,  the  letter  introduces  you  to  old  Senator 
Gibbs,  one  of  the  thoroughly  reliable  men  of  the  upper 
house.  Keen  there  since  the  70s,  I  guess.  Buckman  met 
him  accidentally  in  Chicago  last  week,  and  while  they 
were  talking  the  old  chap  let  fall  that  he  would  like  to 
know  you  better.  He's  had  his  eye  on  you  for  some 
time,  it  seems.  He  admires  your  courage  immensely 
and  your  straightforward  methods  of  grappling  with  the 


58  THE    STANDPATTER 

big  questions.  He  says  you're  every  inch  a  gentleman 
and  a  patriot,  and  the  farthest  possible  remove  from  the 
sloppy  demagogue  of  the  day.  Any  young  member  may 
well  be  proud  of  a  compliment  coming  from  such  a 
source." 

"I'm  obliged  to  him,  I'm  sure.  I  value  his  good  opin- 
ion. It  was  mighty  kind  of  Buckman,  too,  to  send  the 
letter.  Please  tell  him  I  appreciate  it  greatly.  I've  known 
the  old  senator  by  sight  and  have  gone  over  to  hear  him 
hurl  his  phillipics  against  the  degeneracy  of  the  times 
and  the  rottenness  of  certain  politicians.  He's  great — a 
sort  of  human  dynamo — I'll  present  the  letter  at  once 
and  in  person." 

"Now,  we  want  you  to  do  a  little  business  for  us  on 
your  way  east,  Mr.  Canterbury." 

"Impossible,  I  fear;  I've  got  to  push  right  on;  and, 
besides,  my  mother  will  accompany  me." 

"I  thought  of  all  that,  but  the  business  is  simple 
enough  and  it's  not  a  time  consumer.  We've  been  dou- 
bling our  tracks  recently  through  parts  of  Arizona  and 
Texas — spent  a  mint  of  money  on  the  roadbed  down 
there — and  all  we  want  is  for  a  level-headed  chap  who 
has  no  prejudices  either  way  to  pass  over  the  road,  in- 
specting its  surface  smoothness  and  general  safety,  and 
give  us  a  report  on  these  points.  You're  just  the  one  to 
do  this,  and  so  I  took  the  liberty  of  having  your  trans- 
portation made  out — for  yourself  and  Madame  Canter- 
bury—" 

"Sorry,  Billy,  but  I've  already  made  my  reservations 
over  another  road.  It's  better,  too !  for  it  would  get  me 
into  all  kinds  of  a  muddle  to  be  in  the  employ  of  the 
Great  Southern  at  this  stage  of  my  service  in  Congress. 
No,  I'm  obliged  to  decline  your  proposition." 

"No  muddle  at  all,  Mr.  Canterbury.  The  business  is 
to  be  strictly  confidential  and  I  can  easily  dispose  of  your 
reservations;  in  fact,  I've  a  friend  who  wants  to  go  east 
over  the  Short  Line" — Billy  Crewe  hesitated  in  some  em- 
barrassment; he  had  not  intended  to  reveal  the  fact  that 
he  was  aware  of  the  congressman's  choice  of  roads. 

"No,  I  prefer  to  follow  my  original  plan.    Thank  you." 

"Well,  if  necessary,  the  inspection  of  the  roadbed  can 
be  postponed.  There's  another  point,  though,  that  I 


THE    STANDPATTER  59 

would  like  to  talk  over,  and  yet  I  hesitate  a  little  for  the 
simple  reason  that  you're  a  lawyer  and  it  has  somewhat 
to  do  with  your  profession.  It's  the  courts.  Has  it 
dawned  upon  you,  Mr.  Canterbury,  that  about  the  only 
vestige  of  hope  that  so-called  'big  business'  has — I  mean 
the  large  commercial  interests  whose  representatives 
have  made  the  country  what  it  is — their  only  hope  for 
continued  existence,  lies  in  the  higher  tribunals?  Every 
other  prop  and  mainstay  of  the  moneyed  interests  is 
being  reduced  to  kindling  wood,  to  veritable  splinters. 
We  are  becoming  a  nation  of  anarchists,  do  you  know  it? 
It's  no  longer  a  constructive  policy  that  rules ;  it's  ven- 
omously, ruinously  destructive.  And  now  the  envious 
devils  are  reaching  for  the  courts.  I  would  like  to  ask 
you  one  question,  and  you  may  answer  it  or  not,  as  you 
choose.  Are  you  in  sympathy  with  the  president  in  his 
love  and  admiration  for  courts  and  judges,  or  with  the 
rabid  ex-president  in  favoring  the  recall  of  judges?" 

"That's  easy  enough.  Most  assuredly,  I'm  opposed  to 
the  recall.  I'd  be  a  poor  lawyer  if  I  didn't  have  implicit 
faith  in  the  courts." 

"And  now,  another  thing,  and  let  it  be  strictly  'unter 
vier  Augen,'  as  the  Germans  say.  I  didn't  tell  you  quite 
ail  that  Senator  Gibbs  told  Buckman.  It  seems  that  the 
privilege  of  naming  the  chairman  of  the  house  judiciary 
committee  has  been  given  to  him — in  exchange,  of  course, 
for  certain  courtesies  that  he  is  able  to  control — and  he 
has  about  made  up  his  mind  that  a  certain  young  member 
from  Southern  California  is  entitled  to  the  honor." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  he's  thinking  of  me?" 

"That's  my  understanding;  and  I'm  proud  of  being 
the  humble  messenger  who  breaks  the  great  news  to 
you.  Now,  I  must  say  good-bye  for  to-day,"  and  the  little 
man  shook  hands  with  Geoffrey  and  hurried  away. 

Geoffrey  made  no  move  to  go.  He  sat  for  a  moment  as 
one  in  a  dream,  startled,  bewildered,  almost  stupefied  by 
the  revelation  that  had  just  been  made  to  him.  What  a 
future  opened  up  before  him — a  new  heaven  and  a  new 
earth ;  and  over  all  and  above  all  was  the  crowning  vision 
of  a  lovely  woman.  Could  he  hope,  could  he  by  any  pos- 
sibility dare  to  hope,  for  a  future  that  this  beautiful  girl 
might  be  willing  to  share  with  him? 


60  THE    STANDPATTER 


CHAPTER  XL 

As  she  herself  had  predicted,  the  afternoon  in  the  city 
proved  a  strenuous  one  for  Bettina. 

Ward  and  Philip  excused  themselves  after  Geoffrey 
left  the  party;  having  first  accompanied  the  young  ladies 
to  the  Elcazar.  There  were  business  demands  upon  each 
that  could  no  longer  be  ignored.  They  would  not  say 
good-bye,  but  promised  to  return  before  the  hour  of  start- 
ing, take  tea  with  their  friends  and  see  them  safely  off 
in  their  big  touring  car.  More  than  that,  they  would 
make  their  plans  to  visit  Aztec  Lodge  the  coming  week- 
end— this  in  response  to  an  invitation  from  Bettina,  who 
looked  forward  to  having  a  few  friends  with  her  from 
time  to  time,  and,  indeed,  most  of  the  time,  now  that 
they  had  attained  to  some  degree  of  order  and  comfort 
at  the  villa. 

"It  would  be  unpardonable  to  drag  you  along  to  a 
session  of  the  library  trustees.  I'm  too  humane  for  that, 
Marcia,  seeing  you're  not  concerned  in  our  particular 
problems,"  said  Bettina  contemplatively. 

"But,  Betty  dear,  you  don't  know  how  much  I  want  to 
see  what  you  do  and,  how  you  do  it.  I'm  simply  de- 
voured by  curiosity.  I  can't  imagine  an  infant  like  you 
taking  a  hand  in  these  semi-public  affairs.  You  ought 
to  take  me  along,  I  think,  for  the  educational  advantage 
it  would  afford  me,  if  for  no  other  purpose — the  widen- 
ing of  my  mental  horizon,  you  know." 

"That's  important,  of  course,"  laughed  Bettina;  "but 
really,  'I  must  be  cruel  only  to  be  kind,'  m'amie.  It's 
up  to  you  to  choose  between  a  comfortable  rest  here 
at  the  hotel — which  I'm  sure  you  need  even  more  than 
educational  privileges  after  that  tiresome  trip — and  a 
drive  around  the  city,  which  might  on  a  pinch  come 
under  the  head  of  educational.  Which  shall  it  be?  Ales- 
sandro's  reliability  itself,  as  a  chauffeur,  you  have  nothing 
to  fear  on  that  score." 

Marcia  shook  her  head  and  shrugged  her  pretty  shoul- 
ders. "I  think  we'll  compromise  on  my  taking  a  nice 
little  walk  through  the  shopping  district." 


THE    STANDPATTER  61 

"Not  alone,  Marcia?" 

"Yes ;  I'll  be  discretion  itself.  You  see,  I've  a  mania, 
handed  down  probably  from  some  commonplace  ances- 
tress, for  gazing  into  shop  windows.  It's  bad  form,  but 
I  adore  it,  possibly  for  that  very  reason.  Mother  says 
I  have  a  plebian  streak  in  me." 

"Well,  if  you  insist  upon  it;  only  you're  not  to  be  all 
fagged  out  this  evening,  my  dear.  I'm  depending  on 
your  making  things  interesting  for  the  good-looking  con- 
gressman whom  the  Fates  were  kind  enough  to  provide 
us  for  the  home  trip.  I  call  that  right  jolly,  don't  you? 
You  are  to  be  at  your  best,  remember  that.  I  assure  you 
the  gentleman's  as  clever  as  he  is  handsome.  It  has 
always  struck  me  as  funny,  though — a  man's  propensity 
for  taking  a  fancy  to  a  girl  from  the  distant  town.  Did 
you  ever  think  of  it?  I  never  knew  it  to  fail." 

"Now,  just  listen  to  that!  As  if  the  handsome  mem- 
ber of  Congress  had  eyes  or  ears  for  any  one  but  you, 
Miss  Innocence!" 

"What  nonsense !  Why,  this  was  only  our  third  meet- 
ing." 

"Oh,  you  have  reduced  it  to  a  time  schedule?  Let  me 
see,  something  like  this.  First  meeting — mutual  impres- 
sions as  to  beauty  and  cleverness;  second  encounter — 
former  impressions  revived  and  strengthened' — intense 
enjoyment  of  each  other's  society;  third — ."  With  out- 
spread fingers  Marcia  was  solemnly  counting  them  as 
she  spoke. 

"Don't  be  silly,  Marcia,  I  beg  of  you.  The  young  man 
has  far  weightier  things  to  think  of.  Remember,  he's  no 
schoolboy." 

"That's  what  makes  the  case  serious,  Betty." 

"Now,  I'll  leave  you  for  a  while,"  Betty  resumed. 
"Don't  forget  that  Alessandro's  right  there  at  the  door 
in  case  you  want  him.  He's  always  glad  to  be  of  service." 

"But  I  shall  not  need  him,  or  any  one.  I  prefer  being 
quite  alone.  He  must  go  with  you  and  help  you  out  of 
your  tangle." 

"Very  well,  then ;  anything  to  please  you.  You're  just 
as  perverse  as  ever,  you  naughty  child."  Betty  pulled 
down  her  veil,  took  a  final  peep  in  the  long  gilt-framed 


62  THE    STANDPATTER 

mirror,  kissed  Marcia  on  either  cheek,  as  had  been  their 
custom  in  their  schooldays,  and  hurried  out. 

Bettina  had  every  reason  to  be  thankful  before  the 
afternoon  was  over  that  she  had  the  faithful  Alessandro 
at  her  service. 

It  was  later  than  she  had  thought  it  would  be  when 
the  meeting  of  the  library  board  adjourned  and  the  young 
secretary  was  at  liberty  to  turn  her  attention  to  matters 
more  personal. 

She  was  on  the  point  of  nervously  dropping  everything 
and  directing  Alessandro  to  drive  at  once  to  the  Elcazar, 
thinking  the  afternoon  could  be  nothing  but  dreary  for 
Marcia,  when  she  caught  sight  of  Tommy  Gilbert  on  the 
street.  At  a  signal  the  automobile  was  stopped  and  she 
motioned  the  lad  to  her. 

Tommy  was  the  older  son  of  a  widow  in  straightened 
circumstances  who  had  done  needlework  for  the  Brigham 
household  ever  since  Bettina  was  a  child. 

"Hello,  Tommy;  come  right  over  here  and  see  an  old 
friend,  called  Bettina,  with  a  ready  smile  of  recognition. 
Tommy  whirled  about,  pulling  off  his  cap. 

"How-de-do,  Miss  Brigham?"  And  he  grasped  her 
extended  hand.  He  was  a  boy  of  sixteen,  large  for  his 
age,  and  with  all  the  awkwardness  of  that  particular 
period  in  a  boy's  life.  His  plain  features  and  freckled 
face  were  relieved  by  a  pair  of  eyes  as  blue  as  a  bit  of 
June  sky  and  with  an  expression  honest  and  singularly 
frank  and  open. 

"Tell  me  about  your  mother,  Tommy.  How  is  she  and 
how  are  the  twins?  I  haven't  seen  those  blessed  young- 
sters for  ages." 

"Tommy's  expression  changed  instantly  he  heard  the 
question.  Tears  sprang  to  his  eyes  and  his  voice  trem- 
bled. "Didn't  you  know  that  ma  had  a  fall  and  hurt 
herself  badly?  She  hasn't  been  up  for  six  weeks.  She 
can't  do  nothing  and  oh,  she  suffers  terrible.  It's  her 
spine,  the  doctor  said." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  sorry,  Tommy,  so  very  sorry.  And  who 
takes  care  of  Paul  and  little  Jane?  And  what  are  you 
doing?  I  hope  you  haven't  had  to  quit  school.  Do  tell 
me  all  about  it."  Betting  spoke  excitedly.  She  feared 


THE    STANDPATTER  63 

the  case  might  be  even  more  serious  than  Tommy  be- 
lieved it  to  be. 

"Yes,  I  left  school  a  month  ago.  I'm  working  at  Brad- 
bury's"— and  he  looked  up  with  a  gleam  of  pride — "get 
six  dollars  a  week — but  the  trouble  is  there's  not  a  soul 
to  do  a  thing  for  ma  all  day  long  except  the  twins." 

"Except  the  twins!  What  can  those  tots  do  for  any 
body?  And  there's  no  money  except  the  mite  you  earn? 
Oh,  Tommy,  Tommy!". 

The  boy  shook  his  head  in  an  embarrassed  way. 

"Oh,  you  poor  boy!    Why  didn't  you  let  me  know?" 

"Ma  did  send  me  to  tell  you,  but  I  couldn't  find  you 
and  no  one  could  tell  me  where  you  had  gone,  Miss  Brig- 
ham." 

"Do  you  live  at  the  same  place,  Tommy?  Come,  jump 
in  here  this  minute  and  take  me  up  to  see  your  mother. 
Alessandro  will  see  that  you  get  to  where  you  are  going, 
so  you'll  lose  no  time." 

Bettina  could  have  wept  at  the  sight  that  met  her  eyes 
at  the  Gilbert  home.  She  followed  the'  wiser  course, 
however,  and,  instead  of  shedding  useless  tears,  spent 
the  busiest  hour  following  her  arrival  there  she  had 
known  in  all  her  life. 

The  poor  woman  was  overcome  with  emotion  at  sight 
of  the  one  person  in  all  the  world  to  whom  she  had  been 
willing  to  turn  for  help  in  her  distress.  "I,"  she  cried, 
"can't  believe  it  is  really  you,  dear  Miss  Betty.  I  never  ex- 
pected to  see  you  again.  Sure,  I  never  did.  Oh,  I've  gone 
through  everything,  just  everything,"  she  moaned. 

Very  adroitly  Bettina  changed  the  subject,  and  led 
the  distressed  woman's  mind  away  from  the  hardships 
she  had  undergone  to  the  contemplation  of  a  subject 
more  cheerful.  There  were  plans  for  the  immediate  fu- 
ture to  be  made.  Before  she  had  reached  the  house,  Bet- 
tina had  decided  on  the  course  she  desired  to  take,  but 
she  feared  she  might  have  trouble  in  bringing  the  mother 
to  see  things  as  she  did.  Her  plan  was,  in  brief,  to  ask 
that  the  twins,  Paul  and  Jane,  now  seven  years  old, 
should  be  permitted  to  go  home  with  her  and  stay  in  the 
country,  living  in  the  fresh  air  and  basking  in  the  warm 
sunshine,  until  their  mother  was  quite  well.  There  was 
joy  in  the  thought  of  being  able  to  return  to  their  mother 


64  THE    STANDPATTER 

a  pair  of  plump  and  rosy  children  such  as  the  Gilbert 
family  had  never  seen  before.  With  an  abundance  of 
good,  wholesome  milk  to  drink  and  nourishing  food 
to  eat,  there  could  be  little  doubt  of  her  ability  to  do  this. 

Her  first  step  would  be  to  have  a  good  practical  nurse 
sent  to  the  house  at  once  to  take  charge  of  the  invalid, 
who,  it  seemed,  had  received  no  medical  attention  since 
the  first  day  of  her  injuries;  and  there  was  Tommy,  who, 
she  determined,  must  return  to  school  at  once.  He  was 
a  boy  of  far  too  much  promise  to  be  permitted  to  go 
through  life  without  an  education. 

Mrs.  Gilbert  was  to  have  no  further  uneasiness  as  to 
means,  for  what  she  proposed  to  do  would  require  but 
a  pittance  and  this  she  would  be  only  too  happy  to  pro- 
vide many  times  over,  if  necessary. 

These  were  the  plans  that  Bettina,  sitting  at  the  bed- 
side, laid  before  Mrs.  Gilbert.  She  spoke  very  gently  and 
comfortingly,  with  not  a  shadow  of  the  patronizing  man- 
ner so  often  assumed  toward  the  weak  and  helpless.  Her 
heart  was  in  her  words.  If  it  had  not  been  so  the  mother 
could  not  have  yielded  so  readily  to  her  wishes. 

Mrs.  Gilbert's  acquiescence  in  the  general  plan  was  all 
that  Bettina  awaited  in  order  to  go  forward  with  en- 
thusiasm to  the  more  heartsome  task  of  carrying  her 
plans  into  execution. 

The  twins,  who  had  been  absent  on  an  errand,  burst 
into  the  room  just  as  Bettina  had  finished  her  talk  with 
their  mother.  They  were  shy  for  a  few  minutes,  but 
when  it  was  explained  to  them  that  they  were  to  have  a 
holiday,  many  of  them  in  fact,  and  go  in  a  big  automo- 
bile with  dear  Miss  Brigham  to  a  beautiful  place  in  the 
country,  they  soon  forgot  their  shyness  and  were  dem- 
onstratively happy. 

Paul  and  Jane  were  uncommonly  pretty  and  interest- 
ing children,  with  innocent  little  ways,  and  speeches  cun- 
ning and  droll.  Wherever  they  went  they  seldom  failed 
to  be  the  center  of  an  admiring  group. 

Paul  was  a  manly  little  fellow  whose  chief  fault  was 
a  proneness  to  wield  the  cudgel  in  behalf  of  his  small 
sister,  whether  such  defense  was  needed  or  not.  He  had 
a  shock  of  fair  hair,  while  his  sister's  hair  was  a  riot  of 


THE    STANDPATTER  65 

golden  curls.  Both  had  dark  eyes  and  the  cunningest 
of  dimples  coming  and  going  in  their  rosy  cheeks. 

Bettina  had  been  fond  of  them  from  the  first.  She  well 
remembered  her  visit  to  the  Gilbert  home  when  the  twins 
were  but  a  few  weeks  old.  How  excited  she  had  been 
at  the  sight  of  two  squirming  little  mites  of  humanity, 
and  how  she  wanted  them  to  add  to  her  already  large  col- 
lection of  dolls — real  "meat  babies,"  as  Tommy  had  called 
them.  When  home  from  school  in  the  Berkeley  days,  she 
had  never  failed  to  go  to  see  the  twins,  or  have  them  with 
her  at  the  house  for  an  all  day's  romp. 

Mrs.  Gilbert  often  told  her  she  would  spoil  them  en- 
tirely with  the  pretty  presents  she  lavished  upon  them. 
It  was  not  strange  that  her  name  had  become  a  house- 
hold word  with  the  Gilberts. 

It  was  during  the  next  two  hours  that  Bettina  Brig- 
ham  won  her  spurs  as  a  commanding  officer.  She  had 
only  awaited  a  motive  to  call  her  latent  power  into  action. 

The  successful  general,  as  everybody  knows,  never 
hesitates  to  put  his  own  shoulder  to  the  wheel.  He  not 
only  leads  the  van,  but  is  ready  at  a  crucial  moment  to 
go  back  and  bring  up  the  wavering. 

There's  a  pretty  little  incident  of  the  battle  of  San 
Juan  that  every  "Rough  Rider"  likes  to  relate.  Their 
intrepid  colonel,  whose  courage,  mental  and  physical,  no 
one  will  essay  to  impeach,  at  the  head  of  his  regiment 
made  a  dash  for  the  top  of  San  Juan  hill.  Urging  his 
horse — the  officers  only  were  mounted— up  the  rocky 
and  almost  impossible  incline,  he  found  in  front  of  him 
a  barbed  wire  fence.  Drawing  back  a  few  paces  and 
steadying  himself  in  the  saddle,  he  spurred  his  horse  to 
the  quick  and  a  strenuous  leap  took  horse  and  rider  to  the 
further  side.  On  the  leader  pushed  until  near  the  top, 
when  he  looked  back  and  found  that  but  one  man  of  the 
regiment  had  followed  him  and  he  was  compelled  to  go 
back  for  the  rest  of  his  men. 

With  almost  breathless  enthusiasm  Bettina  went  for- 
ward with  -her  plans. 

The  moment  Alessandro  returned  she  set  him  to  work 
with  instructions  to  reduce  the  little  house  to  neatness 
and  order  in  the  shortest  possible  time.  Everything  was 
to  be  made  ready  for  the  nurse  whom  she  was  about  to 


66  THE    STANDPATTER 

summon.  That  done,  there  would  be  further  duties 
awaiting  him. 

Bettina  then  hastened  out  to  a  telephone  and  called 
her  old  family  physician,  Dr.  Norton,  explaining  that  she 
wanted  him  to  come  and  make  a  thorough  examination 
in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Gilbert.  She  requested  him  to  follow 
this  visit  up  with  others  as  long  as  he  found  it  at  all  nec- 
essary. He  was  to  bring  with  him  also  a  competent 
nurse,  whose  services  would  probably  be  required  for 
several  months. 

Dr.  Norton  assured  her  he  would  come  right  up,  and 
he  thought  he  knew  of  just  such  a  nurse  as  was  wanted, 
one  who  would  not  only  take  care  of  the;  patient,  but 
manage  the  little  household  and  make  every  one  around 
her  comfortable  and  happy. 

"It's  Miss  Rydberg.  She's  a  strong,  willing,  and  thor- 
oughly trained  Swedish  woman  who  is  anxious  to  learn 
the  ways  of  the  country  before  going  into  wholly  pro- 
fessional work.  She  speaks  English  fairly  well."  The 
doctor's  explanations  were  satisfactory. 

"Bring  her  along,  by  all  means,  Doctor.  I  would  like 
to  see  her  started  before  I  leave  the  city."  Bettina  felt 
that  she  was  making  progress. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  she  had  never  before  fully  appre- 
ciated the  convenience  of  the  telephone.  What  use  she 
did  make  of  it!  There  were  supplies  to  be  ordered  from 
the  grocer ;  a  few  necessaries  from  the  druggist,  and  a  for- 
midable list  to  be  filled  by  a  big  dry  goods  house.  Little 
insight  had  been  required  to  discover  that  linens  and  bed- 
ding were  low  and  sorely  needed  replenishing.  Truly 
the  afternoon  with  its  revelations  was  proving  a  lesson 
in  social  science  more  potent  than  any  lecture  that 
Berkeley  had  ever  given  her. 

Meanwhile  Alessandro  had  not  been  idle.  The  little 
home  had  been  cleaned  and  garnished  when  Bettina  re- 
turned, and  a  cheerful  fire  blazed  on  the  hearth ;  for  the 
evening  chill  was  on.  Even  a  bouquet  of  roses  had  been 
gathered  and  placed  on  the  tiny  table  at  the  bedside. 

A  marvelous  transformation,  truly.  There  were  order, 
cleanliness,  the  aesthetic  touch,  essentials  all  of  the 
home;  for  in  the  true  home,  whether  that  of  wealth  or 
of  small  means,  beauty  orr-a  high  order  must  of  necessity 


THE    STANDPATTER  67 

sit  enthroned ;  not  alone  that  outward  beauty  which  Al- 
essandro  had  sought  to  produce,  but  the  ranking  beauty 
of  true  womanhood,  of  splendid  manhood,  the  beauty  of 
wholesome  living,  of  right  thinking,  the  beauty  of  char- 
acter. 

What  touched  Bettina  most  of  all  when  she  re-entered 
the  little  house  was  the  look  of  peace  that  had  come  to 
Mrs.  Gilbert's  face.  In  it  was  substantial  reward,  if  re- 
ward she  sought.  She  was  repaid  a  thousandfold  for  the 
little  she  had  done.  Never  had  she  known  the  inward 
happiness  that  this  afternoon's  work  was  giving  her. 
This  was  life.  Here  was  genuine  experience.  She 
thought  with  a  kind  of  self-pity  of  air  the  altruistic  the- 
ories, picked  up  here  and  there,  mainly  in  the  classroom, 
which  she  had  expounded  so  satisfactorily  to  herself.  It 
had  been  talk,  talk,  talk,  she  told  herself.  Precious  little 
good  there  was  in  having  money,  lots  and  lots  of  money, 
as  she  knew  she  had,  if  she  was  to  use  it  only  to  surround 
herself  with  luxuries — but  she  had  not  known ;  that  must 
be  her  excuse  for  the  past ;  as  for  the  future — well,  there 
could  be  no  dallying  with  theories,  no  harking  back  to 
the  mere  philosophy  of  these  social  questions. 

"Now,  Alessandro,  you've  done  so  well  that  I  can  trust 
you  to  do  one  thing  more,"  said  Bettina,  with  a  smile. 
"I'll  wait  here  for  Dr.  Norton  and  the  nurse  while  you 
take  Paul  and  Jane  to  Coldron's  for  a  fitting  of  clothes. 
I've  spoken  to  Miss  Norman  and  you  are  to  go  direct  to 
her.  Don't  forget  the  name,  and  be  quick.  Get  back  in 
a  twinkling." 

Dr.  Norton  had  come  and  gone,  leaving  good  cheer  in 
his  wake;  Miss  Rydberg,  in  keeping  with  her  profession, 
was  already  at  home  with  her  patient,  when  Alessandro 
returned  for  Miss  Brigham. 

Mrs.  Gilbert  bore  up  bravely  as  she  parted  from  the 
twins,  Bettina  assuring  her  that  they  should  come  to  see 
her  often.  As  for  Paul  and  Jane,  they  were  far  too  ex- 
cited and  happy  to  take  the  parting  seriously. 

In  the  spacious  lobby  of  the  Elcazar,  Bettina  found 
her  friends.  They  had  reached  a  state  of  mild  surprise 
as  to  what  had  detained  her  and  were  discussing  the  pro- 
priety of  ordering  tea  when  she  arrived.  Marcia,  as 
hostess,  had  just  welcomed  Mr.  Canterbury,  who  had 


68  THE    STANDPATTER 

been  late  in  coming.  She  declared  she  had  not  been 
lonely  a  moment  as  Philip  and  Ward  had  hurried  around 
an  hour  before. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  Bettina  to  explain"  the  highly 
interesting  situation. 

"And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  these  'heavenly  twins' 
of  yours  are  with  you  this  minute  ?"  Marcia  was  plainly 
excited. 

"I  mean  to  say  that  they  are  in  the  car  with  Alessandro, 
as  happy  as  kittens.  As  they  are  not  tea-drinkers,  ex- 
cept of  the  cambric  variety,  I'll  order  a  hamper  of  good 
things  for  them  to  eat." 

"Well,"  explained  Ward,  with  his  customary  drawl, 
"I've  never  yet  been  knocked  out  of  the  ring  by  anything 
Bettina  Brigham  has  done,  and  now  I'm  prepared  for 
the  worst,  however  cataclysmic  it  may  be." 

"That  being  the  case,  suppose  we  aii  drink  tea,"  said 
Bettina  gaily. 


THE    STANDPATTER  69 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Marcia  sprang  lightly  into  the  front  seat,  resolutely 
ignoring  Bettina's  uplifted  eyebrows. 

"Me  for  a  place  beside  the  driver,  where  I  can  see  the 
sights  and  study  the  country,"  she  called  out  as  she  took 
her  seat ;  then,  to  Philip  Ingalls,  who,  bending  over,  was 
tucking  the  blankets  about  her  with  more  solicitude  and 
deliberation  than  the  occasion  seemed  to  require,  she 
added,  sotto  voce,  "besides,  this  arrangement  of  seats  is 
agreeable,  I'm  positive,  to  the  only  gentleman  of  the 
party." 

"Right  you  are,"  and  Philip  smiled  significantly.  "But 
if  I  had  my  way — " 

"Then  what?    Not  jealous,  are  you?" 

"No ;  I  was  just  thinking  how  amazingly  I'd  enjoy 
giving  you  a  few  pointers  about  the  country ;  that's  all." 

"Thanks,  awfully." 

"Meantime,  it  was  Ward  who  was  looking  after  Paul 
and  Jane,  alternately  teasing  and  petting  the  children, 
who  were  restless  as  quicksilver,  wriggling  and  squirm- 
ing in  their  impatience  to  be  off,  now  that  they  had  sam- 
pled and  found  quite  satisfactory  the  contents  of  the 
generous  hamper  delivered  to  Alessandro  during  tea- 
time. 

Not  an  inch  of  the  great  car  had  they  failed  to  scruti- 
nize, quizzing  Alessandro  mercilessly  all  the  while;  and 
now,  after  trying,  in  turn,  every  seat,  fore  and  aft,  they 
had  declared  in  favor  of  a  low  footstool,  where  they  sat 
like  two  small,  mischievous  elves. 

Bettina  was  in  her  usual  high  spirits,  with  an  added  gai- 
ety due,  in  part  at  least,  to  the  exciting  occurrences  of  the 
day.  The  children  amused  her  vastly  and  she  was  happy 
beyond  measure  in  the  thought  that  they  would  give  to  Az- 
tec Lodge  that  touch  of  life — innocent,  rollicking  child-life 
— that  the  old  p'.~ce  so  greatly  needed.  She  had  no  fear  but 
that  she  c*ould  make  them  riotously  happy.  They  were 
bright  and  sweet  and  affectionate,  and  would  become  daily 
more  attractive,  she  believed,  under  the  careful  training 
which  she  proposed,  with  Frau  Wildenow's  help,  to  give 
them. 


70  THE    STANDPATTER 

The  companionship  of  her  friends,  from  whom  she  had 
been  separated  long  enough  to  make  her  value  it  as  never 
before,  proved  with  her  an  irresistible  impulse  to  gay  ban- 
ter, even  levity.  The  events  of  the  day  had  been  exhilar- 
ating; and,  truth  to  tell,  she  was  far  from  averse  to  a 
pleasant  chat  with  her  distinguished  neighbor  of  Canter- 
bury Rancho. 

"You  see,  Mr.  Canterbury,  you've  no  choice  in  the  mat- 
ter. Here's  a  seat  and  'yez  can  tak'  it  or  lave  it'  as  the 
funny  little  Irish  grocer  on  our  corner  ventures  to  tell  his 
customers  when  he  sees  them  hesitate  from  any  cause.'1 

"Sure,  miss,"  was  the  answer  in  a  rich  Irish  brogue, 
"I'll  tak'  it  an'  the  saints  bless  yez  foriver  an'  iver  for  of- 
ferin'  of  it  to  mesilf." 

Bettina  smiled  brightly  at  Geoffrey's  ready  mimicry  of 
the  brogue,  as  she  turned  to  give  a  final  word  of  admoni- 
tion to  Ward  and  Philip.  "You'll  promise  me  to  remember 
that  Marcia's  at  the  Lodge  and  it's  a  right  merry  note  we 
want  sounded  during  her  stay." 

"As  if  we  could  forget  for  an  instant,"  said  Philip. 

"Then  show  your  interest  by  coming  often  and  having 
your  friends  come  with  you.  I  can  send  Alessandro  in 
for  you  any  time  you  wish.  And  Ward,  let  us  have  some 
of  your  Stanford  fraternity  men.  iWe'll  see  if  we  can't 
have  an  infusion  of  genuine  college  spirit  once  more." 

"O,  Bettina,"  gasped  Philip,  "you'll  surely  not  provide 
genuine  college  spirits  for  Stanford  men.  It  might  do  a 
world  of  mischief." 

"Nothing  more  serious,  Phil,  than  a  midnight  spread, 
sans  liqueur,  I  assure  you." 

"It'll  be  a  capacity  house,"  said  Ward,  drily,  "if  I  tell 
the  Stanford  boys  that  the  belle  of  Berkeley  town  is  here." 

"Standing  room  only,"  said  Marcia,  with  a  pretty  grim- 
ace. "What  a  tribute  you're  paying  to  our  Berkeley  girls," 
and  she  bowed  mockingly. 

"Well,  we'll  make  it  so  jolly  for  our  particular  Berkeley 
damsel  that  she'll  stay  all  winter,  I  trust,"  said  Bettina. 
It's  a  downright  shame  that  Mr.  Canterbury's  to  go  so 
soon,  but — his  country  calls.  How  soon  can  we  hope  to 
see  you  back,  Mr.  Congressman?" 

"Hard  to  say,  Miss  Brigham.  The  game  of  politics  as 
it's  played  these  days,  is  'mighty  onsartain.'  Rest  assured, 


THE    STANDPATTER  71 

I'll  come  back  to  my  friends  and  my  alfalfa  fields  at  the 
first  possible  moment.  I  live  in  California  and  only  exist 
in  Washington,  don't  you  see?" 

The  last  good-byes  spoken,  they  were  soon  speeding 
over  the  smooth,  oiled  boulevard,  one  of  many  of  its  kind 
stretching  far  away  from  the  city  to  the  popular  pleasure 
resorts  of  the  beaches,  or  to  the  picturesque  towns  and  vil- 
lages and  hamlets  scattered  through  the  valleys  and  bor- 
dering the  foothills. 

"If  you  were  asked,  Miss  Brigham,  to  name  the  one 
thing  that  contributes  more  than  all  else  to  California's 
pre-eminence  among  the  states,-'  asked  Geoffrey,  "what 
would  it  be  ?" 

"The  colleges,  of  course." 
"Well  said,  to  be  sure." 
"And  you,  Miss  Duffield?" 

"Why,  if  I  were  asked  to  name  in  the  order  of  their 
importance  the  three  things  that  make  California  great,  I 
should  say  first,  the  climate ;  second — let  me  see — why,  yes, 
it  would  have  to  be  the  climate;  and  third — again  the 
climate.  We  make  a  specialty  of  climate  in  California." 
"That's  right,  too." 

"But  what  did  you  have  in  mind?  Something  different, 
I'll  wager.  It's  the  practical  side  of  life  that  men  value 
highly,"  said  Bettina  reflectively. 

"I  was  thinking  of  California's  magnificent  highways 
and  the  millions  that  have  been  spent  freely,  to  make  them 
what  they  are.  Other  states  have  excellent  educational 
institutions — almost  as  good,  we  will  say,  as  our  own  at 
Berkeley  and  Palo  Alto;  others,  too,  have  climate,  salubri- 
ous and  delightful;  but  where,  pray,  is  the  commonwealth 
that  can  make  an  equal  showing  in  the  simple  matter  of 
roads?" 

"I  believe  you're  right,  Mr.  Canterbury."  Bettina  was 
always  frank  to  acknowledge  herself  in  error  if  she  was 
made  to  see  it,  though  she  was  one  to  hold  firmly  to  her 
opinions  until  she  was  honestly  convinced. 

"I  have-often  thought,"  she  continued,  "that  it  is  these 
smooth  roads  that  are  bringing  country  and  city  together, 
these  and  our  trolley  lines  that  are  so  dear  to  you,  Mr. 
Canterbury.  Think  of  the  number  of  people  living  far 
away  from  the  business  sections  of  our  own  city  that  are 


72  THE    STANDPATTER 

able,  nevertheless,  to  go  back  and  forth  in  comparative 
comfort.  All  the  pleasures  of  the  city  and  most  of  its 
intellectual  life  are  within  their  grasp." 

"Besides,"  added  Geoffrey,  "it  is  people  that  every  state 
needs  and  must  have  in  large  numbers,  too,  if  it  is  to 
advance;  that  is,  permanent  residents,  you  know,  and 
that's  what  our  good  roads  are  doing  for  us,  converting, 
each  year,  thousands  of  tourists  into  homeseekers.  Some 
of  the  eastern  states  and  those  of  the  Central  West  com- 
plain, and  with  good  reason,  that  the  coast  country  is 
building  up  at  their  expense;  that  the  agricultural  classes 
especially  are  emptying  themselves  into  California.  Why? 
Because  visitors  here  become  enamored  with  the  outdoor 
life.  They  like  the  ease  with  which  they  get  about  and 
cover  long  distances.  They  enjoy  motoring  all  the  year 
round." 

"What  does  my  little  Jane  like  best  in  California?"  Bet- 
tina  drew  the  little  girl  up  into  her  lap  as  she  spoke. 

"I  love  the  flowerth  betht,"  lisped  Jane.  "Do  you  have 
flowerth  at  your  houthe,  Mith  Bettina?" 

"Yes,  darling,  plenty  of  flowers.  And  we  have  bees,  too. 
Do  you  know  what  bees  make  from  the  flowers  ?" 

"I  do,  I  do,"  and  little  Paul  clamored  for  recognition. 

"Well,  Paul,  what  do  the  bees  make  from  the  flowers?" 

"It's  honey,  and  oh,  how  I  like  it!  I  could  eat  a  million 
bushels,  Miss  Betty." 

"And  I  just  like  butterflieth,"  said  Jane.  I  thaw  a  buful 
butterfly  one  day.  It  wath  jutht  like  gold  and  it  flewed 
over  our  flowerth." 

"And  I  venture  little  Jane  doesn't  know  what  butterflies 
make,"  said  Geoffrey,  smiling. 

"Yeth,  I  do,"  said  the  little  girl,  encouraged  by  the  smile, 
"they  make  buttermilk." 

The  laugh  that  followed  proved  too  much  for  the  little 
girl  who,  overcome  with  bashfulness,  tucked  her  curly  head 
under  Bettina's  arm  and  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

"It  seems  to  me,  Mr.  Canterbury,"  said  Bettina  turning 
to  him  gaily,  "that  we've  been  supremely  selfish  to-day — 
I  mean  our  little  party,  we've  discussed  our  own  petty 
affairs  ad  nauseam,  I  fear,  and  have  shown  not  the  slightest 
interest  in  your  larger  concerns.  It  isn't  because  we're 


THE    STANDPATTER  73 

indifferent.  I'm  sure  of  that.  How  did  you  find  political 
matters  in  the  city?  In  ship  shape,  I  hope." 

Geoffrey  reflected  a  moment  before  venturing  a  reply. 
His  mind  turned,  like  a  flash,  to  the  inflammable  proceed- 
ings of  the  district  central  committee;  and  he  wondered 
to  what  extent  those  proceedings  would  be  reported 
through  the  press.  The  so-called  "progressive"  newspa- 
pers had,  hitherto,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  largely  by  crook, 
he  surmised,  been  able  to  publish  tolerably  accurate  ac- 
counts of  the  doings  of  his  faction,  even  though  reporters 
had  to  penetrate  behind  closed  doors  in  order  to  accom- 
plish it. 

"Generally  speaking,  I  think  .political  affairs  in  Cali- 
fornia are  in  something  of  a  turmoil,"  he  said  thoughtfully. 
"I'm  sorry  to  be  compelled  to  say  so." 

"I  have  thought  as  much,  but  it  seems  to  me  we've  got 
to  have  something  of  a  gale,  possibly  a  hurricane,  before 
the  atmosphere  is  clear." 

"That  may  be." 

"But  don't  you  feel  it?" 

Again  he  hesitated  before  making  a  reply.  "I  think 
party  disruption  is  at  all  times  a  real  catastrophe  for  the 
country." 

"But  not  if  a  party  has  become  untrue  to  its  principles? 
Not  if  it  has  become  unfaithful  to  the  people,  surely?" 

"Certainly  not,  if  that  can  be  shown." 

"Isn't  the  trouble  with  the  leaders?  I  mean  the  men 
who,  because  of  their  enormous  wealth,  dictate  their  own 
terms  to  the  masses.  It  occurs  to  me  sometimes  that  we 
forget  that  all  men  in  this  country  are  supposed  to  have 
been  born  equal — not  equal  in  ability  of  course,  nor  equal 
in  physical  strength  or  energy,  but  with  an  equal  chance 
to  get  a  living,  an  equal  opportunity  to  secure  happiness, 
an  equal  chance  to  work." 

"Ton  have  the  right  idea,  certainly,  Miss  Brigham." 

"I  don't  like  to  see  a  few  men  accumulate  all  or  nearly 
all  the  wealth  of  the  country,  which  is  the  'surplus  of 
labor.'  Wealth  should  be  more  evenly  distributed." 

"It  looks  as  if  the  chances  were  rather  uneven,  to  be 
sure." 

"Very  much  so,  I  should  say,  when  one  man  can  own 


74  THE    STANDPATTER 

that  which  it  would  take  the  average  man  over  two  mil- 
lion years  to  acquire." 

"Of  course  we  have  to  acknowledge  that  men  possess 
different  degrees  of  intelligence  and  energy." 

"But  after  all,  no  one  man  has  ten  million  or  even  two 
million  times  the  energy  or  the  intelligence  that  the  aver- 
age man  possesses." 

"The  errors  of  the  past  are  not  easy  to  correct.  You 
know  the  famous  remark  of  Pierpont  Morgan,  that  you 
can't  unscramble  scrambled  eggs." 

"We  can  prevent  future  scrambling,  though.  You  un- 
doubtedly see  a  good  deal  of  this  spirit  of  discrimination  in 
favor  of  the  already  powerful.  Politicians  of  that  charac- 
ter do  not  care  a  whit  what  party  wins  just  so  that  their 
own  selfish  interests  are  advanced." 

"I  know  there  are  many  who  think  so ;  but  I'm  happy  to 
say  that  I  haven't  found  so  much  dishonesty  in  politics  as 
some  people  would  have  us  believe.  Most  men  entrusted 
with  public  office  are  trying  to  do  their  duty.  They're 
seeking  to  serve  the  people  whom  they  represent — to  serve 
the  country  as  a  whole." 

"I  see  that  you're  an  optimist.  I  want  above  all  things, 
too,  to  take  a  cheerful  view  of  these  matters.  I  don't  want 
to  be  a  croaker;  but  one's  got  to  have  an  eye  leeward  for 
danger  signals.  I  shall  take  a  deeper  interest  in  politics 
than  ever  before,  now  that  I  know  the  member  from  my 
own  district." 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Brigham,  I  hope  you  will  feel  entirely 
free  at  all  times  to  talk  with  me  about  any  subject  which 
interests  you.  I  shall  go  back  carrying  a  greater  devotion 
in  my  heart  to  the  people  I  am  trying  to  serve  because  of 
your  devoted  loyalty  to  them." 

"It's  very  kind  of  you  to  say  so.  I  do  want  to  see  you 
lined  up  on  the  side  of  the  people.  But  here  we  are  at 
Canterbury  Rancho.  Would  you  believe  it?" 

"Not  for  a  moment.  You've  given  me  such  pleasure  as 
doesn't  often  come  my  way,  Miss  Brigham." 

"Miss  Duffield  and  I  shall  expect  an  early  call ;  and  when 
my  friends  come  I  want  both  you  and  your  mother  to  join 
us  at  the  lodge." 

"Charmed  to  do  so.  I  speak  for  both  of  us ;  and  now, 
good  night,  Miss  Duffield,  and  au  revoir,  Miss  Brigham!" 


THE    STANDPATTER  75 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

It  was  the  morning  after  her  arrival,  and  Marcia,  stand- 
ing on  the  broad  stone  steps,  a  slim,  graceful  figure  in  the 
radiant  sunshine,  spoke  with  a  gay,  encompassing  gesture : 

"How  heavenly  sweet  and  peaceful  here  under  the  wide, 
open  sky !  Betty  dear,  you  never  told  me  that  from  your 
own  dooryard  I  could  stretch  out  my  good  right  arm  and 
gather  a  snowball  from  Old  Baldy's  hoary  head  or  throw 
a  wreath  of  roses  around  the  old  giant's  shoulders.  What 
a  wonderful  land  it  is,  to  be  sure!" 

"I  didn't  know  I'd  left  a  word  unspoken.  It's  not  my 
custom." 

"Surely,  like  little  Paul,  I'm  ready  to  make  a  good  long 
stay  at  the  pretty  villa,"  added  Marcia.  "The  little  chap 
tells  me  he  likes  it  so  much  he'll  only  go  to  the  big  city 
once  in  a  while  in  the  big  machine  to  see  his  mamma; 
otherwise,  he  and  Jane  will  stay  right  here  until  they  go 
to  heaven,  he  says." 

Frau  Wildenow,  sitting  near  by  at  her  little  work-table, 
laughed  heartily.  "The  little  man,  I'm  afraid  he  is  not 
altogether  conseestent,"  she  said,  "for  when  I  gave  him 
his  cup  of  foaming  milk  half  an  hour  ago,  fresh  and  sweet 
as  it  came  from  our  little  bossy,  he  found  it  so  delicious 
that  he  looked  up  innocently  and  said:  'O,  when  I  go 
home  I'm  going  to  ask  our  milkman  to  buy  him  a  cow.'  " 

The  girls  shouted  with  merriment  and  the  twins,  eager 
for  every  bit  of  fun  that  was  going,  dropped  their  small 
spades  and  scurried  to  the  house. 

Bettina  called  little  Jane  to  her  side.  "I  want  my  Dotty 
Dimple,"  she  said,  "to  tell  our  Little  Mother  over  there  all 
about  her  own  dear  mamma  and  about  the  tiny  house 
where  she  lives." 

Jane  tossed  her  pretty  curls  and  her  dimples  were  very 
much  in  evidence.  "We  live  with  our  own  ma,  but  now 
ma'th  tho  terrible  hurted  that  we'll  thtay  a  long,  long  time 
with  Mith  Betty,  'n  I  like  it  here,  tho  I  do." 

"Yes,"  int'erposed  Paul,  "  'n  God  brought  us  'n  gave  us 
to  our  ma  and  we're  awful  glad  cause  God  picked  out  such 
a  good  ma  for  us." 


76  THE    STANDPATTER 

''God  picked  out  a  good  papa  for  you,  too,  I  used  to 
know  him  before  he  went  to  heaven,"  said  Bettina,  gently. 

"No,  God  didn't  pick  out  papa,"  said  Paul  solemnly. 
"Ma  picked  him  out  herself,  but  it  was  God,  'n  I  know  it, 
'at  picked  our  Miss  Betty." 

Frau  Wildenow  who  took  pride  in  having  seen  much  of 
the  world,  had  long  maintained,  in  the  secrecy  of  her  own 
breast,  of  course,  that  Bettina  was  altogether  the  most  dis- 
tractingly  pretty  girl  she  had  ever  seen — Bettina  with  her 
shining  auburn  tresses,  her  vivid  coloring,  her  large,  hon- 
est, unspoiled  eyes,  her  mobile  mouth,  her  perfect,  wil- 
lowy figure.  Could  any  one  be  so  dull  as  not  to  recognize 
her  surpassing  loveliness?  Yet  in  the  Berkeley  days  Frau 
Wildenow  had  been  known  to  admit  that  Bettina's  friend 
Marcia  possessed  claims  to  beauty  that  called  for  recog- 
nition and  did  not  fail  to  receive  it. 

Both  girls  were  above  the  average  height,  but  there  the 
physical  likeness  ended.  Marcia's  hair  was  dark  as  night, 
an  almost  purple  black,  and  rippled  back  from  a  low  clas- 
sic forehead;  her  coloring  was  delicate,  her  eyes  large, 
luminous,  and  of  a  dark  gray  color,  with  shimmering- 
lavender  tints  in  their  liquid  depths. 

Again,  both  were  vivacious,  fond  of  fun,  ready  to  do 
their  part  and  much  more  in  promoting  any  general  merry- 
making; but,  in  Bettina's  character  there  were  depths  never 
reached  in  Marcia's  nature. 

"Why  do  you  bother  that  wise  old  head  of  yours  about 
all  these  perplexing  questions,  Betty  mine?"  Marcia  had 
asked  that  very  morning  as  they  sipped  their  coffee  at  a 
little  table  in  the  pergola.  "Why,  for  example,  did  you 
expend  nervous  energy  in  such  reckless  quantities  yester- 
day on  the  Gilbert  family?  I  have  found  it  doesn't  pay." 

And  Bettina  had  tried  to  tell  her  that  it  was  the  one 
thing  that  brought  satisfactory  returns ;  at  which  Marcia 
smiled  incredulously.  "Well,"  she  said  with  a  mocking 
laugh,  "I  turned  my  back  on  those  knotty  problems  the 
moment  I  bade  good  old  Professor  Dry-as-Dust  a  tearful 
farewell,  and  made  a  bonfire  of  my  text-books." 

"You'd  find  their  study  not  half  as  stupid  in  the  con- 
crete as  in  the  abstract." 

"But,  Betty,  wait  till  you're  married  before  going  in  for 
the  regeneration  of  the  human  race." 


THE    STANDPATTER  77 

"I'm  attempting  nothing  so  formidable  as  either  the 
regeneration  of  the  race,  or  matrimony,  I  assure  you. 
Besides,  who  knows  that  I  shall  ever  marry?  Marriage 
for  a  girl  is  always  problematical,  they  say." 

"It  wasn't  exactly  for  Helen  of  Troy ;  that  fair  lady  had 
only  to  choose  and,  like  another  whom  I  know,  she  had 
many  suitors  from  whom  to  make  her  choice." 

"I'm  proud  of  you,  Marcia.  I  see  you  carry  around  with 
you  the  essentials  of  mythology* — the  interesting  details — 
if  you  did  burn  your  text-books.  But  your  logic's  at  fault. 
You  reason  from  false  premises." 

"Not  at  all,  and  step  by  step,  I  reach  the  logical  con- 
clusion that  Bettina  Brigham  will  marry.  I'm  sure  I  shall, 
too." 

"Since  when  are  you  sure?" 

"Why,  bless  your  soul,  I've  never  doubted  it  for  a 
moment.  It's  only  a  question  of  rinding  the  right  man,  or, 
rather,  of  his  looking  out  into  illimitable  space  and  discov- 
ering me;  no  doubt  we're  slowly  gravitating  toward  each 
other  at  this  moment.  I  humbly  admit,  tho'  that  the  mar- 
riageable men  of  two  continents  are  not  falling  over  each 
other  madly  to  win  my  heart  and  hand.  There's  where 
you  have  the  advantage.  For  instance,  there's  small 
chance  of  its  ever  becoming  necessary  for  me  to  betake 
myself  to  some  distant  happy  isle  in  order  to  ward  off 
eligible  bachelors." 

"How  absurd  you  can  be  when  occasion  offers,  my  dear 
Marcia." 

"No  absurdity  at  all.  That's  what  Phil  told  me  they 
were  talking  at  the  club — that  the  beautiful  and  gracious 
Miss  Brigham  had  so  many  suitors  during  her  brief  sea- 
son in  society  that  from  motives  of  self-defense  she  with- 
drew from  the  social  maelstrom." 

"And  yet  they  say  that  men  never  gossip." 

"Never  when  otherwise  employed." 

"It's  monstrous  their  saying  such  things.  A  girl  would 
have  to  be  a  vain  and  silly  prig,  don't  you  know,  to  think 
she  needed  protection  from  suitors." 

"That's  so,  Betty,  even  the  undesirables  liven  things  up 
for  us  a  bit,  and  so  serve  a  useful  purpose." 

'Of  course  I'm  not  pining  to  spend  my  life  in  melan- 
choly spinsterhood,  far  from  it,"  said  Betty;  "no  more  do 


78  THE    STANDPATTER 

I  intend  to  make  a  spectacular  center  rush  into  matri- 
mony. I  must  be  sure  that  it's  Betty  Brigham  rather  than 
anything  she  possesses  that  is  the  attraction." 

"That's  right.    The  fortune  hunter's  abroad  in  the  land." 

"Thank  heaven,  he  usually  bears  the  earmarks.  I'm  not 
morbid  on  that  subject.  I'd  be  loath  to  judge  any  one 
wrongly  but  I've  met  the  fortune  hunter  more  than  once 
and  it  makes  me  a  trifle  skeptical." 

"While  we're  dissecting  men  and  their  motives,"  Bet- 
tina  continued,  "I  see  that  Alessandro  is  carrying  out  my 
orders  to  take  you  for  a  drive.  We  live  in  the  open  here 
— in  Southern  California — it's  our  first  instruction  to  the 
unitiated.  Run,  now,  and  get  ready ;  you're  to  go  with 
the  Little  Mother  and  the  heavenly  twins  this  morning." 

"You,  too,  n'est-ce  pas?" 

"No,  dear,  you'll  have  to  excuse  me  for  once.  It's 
three  days  since  I've  taken  a  look  at  the  cement  work 
on  the  South  mesa — a  monster  reservoir  that  fifty  men  are 
building  and  must  complete  before  the  winter  freshets. 
It's  a  splendid  piece  of  masonry  but,  of  course,  you'll  see 
it  one  of  these  days.  I  promised  the  doctor  I'd  go  over 
with  him  this  morning  and  note  progress." 


THE    STANDPATTER  79 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Bettina  had  concluded  her  tour  of  inspection  under  the 
superintendent's  escort,  and  was  leisurely  awaiting  the 
return  of  the  car. 

The  visit  to  the  mighty  reservoir  had  inspired  her  with 
increased  respect  for  Trowbridge,  the  university  man  in 
immediate  charge  of  irrigation.  His  capacity  for  manage- 
ment, his  thoroughness  and  reliability,  his  ability  to  do 
things  in  a  large  way — all  were  evidenced  by  the  progress, 
slow  but  sure,  that  was  perceptible. 

The  skill  with  which  water  had  been  conducted  from 
its  hidden  sources  far  up  in  the  mountain  fastnesses  was 
equaled  only  by  the  masterly  preparation  for  its  distribu- 
tion to  every  point  on  the  big  ranch. 

Men  who  acquire  such  mastery  over  the  forces  of  na- 
ture stand  as  kings  among  men.  Such  were  they  who,  at 
infinite  peril  to  life  and  limb,  tunneled  their  weary  way 
through  the  Colorado  Rockies  deflecting  the  course  of  a 
mighty  rushing  river,  in  order  that  the  desert  beyond  might 
blossom  and  bear  fruit;  such,  too,  the  sturdy  men  of  brain 
and  brawn,  under  whose  aggressive  labor  the  Great  Ameri- 
can desert  with  its  miles  upon  miles  of  sands  finally  dis- 
appeared or  was  replaced  by  fields  of  grain  and  cotton; 
they,  too,  who  are  bringing  a  living  stream  many,  many 
miles  from  its  sources  in  the  distant  Inyo  country,  that 
water  may  abound;  that  the  people  of  a  rapidly  growing 
California  city  may,  for  ages  to  come,  quench  their  thirst; 
to  the  same  class  likewise,  belong  those  skilled  engineers 
and  master  mechanics  who  are  giving  the  world  that  mas- 
terpiece of  civilization — the  Panama  Canal. 

Bettina  made  up  her  mind  to  see  more  of  the  superin- 
tendent's young  assistants.  Although  they  ate  in  the  big 
dining-room,  she  came  only  in  occasional  contact  with  them 
for  the  reason  that  meals  were  served  there  to  suit  the 
individual  convenience,  as  in  a  hotel.  The  family  table, 
too,  was  apart  from  the  rest ;  often  it  was  set  in  the  smaller 
breakfast-room — an  enclosed  corner  of  the  veranda  which 
commanded  a  magnificent  view  of  the  mountains. 

Hereafter,  she  determined,  she  would  have  the  group  of 


80  THE    STANDPATTER 

college  men  frequently  at  her  own  table  and  in  the  family 
circle.  Men  who  could  accomplish  miracles  in  a  mechani- 
cal way  were  worth  knowing. 

The  girl  had  thrown  off  her  big  garden  hat  and  was 
idly  swinging  in  a  hammock.  Into  her  mind  came  her 
conversation  of  the  morning.  She  smiled  to  herself  as  she 
thought  of  Marcia's  supreme  confidence  as  regards  mar- 
riage. "If  the  Fates  are  busy  weaving  in  my  behalf,"  she 
said,  "it  would  be  interesting  to  know  whom  they  are  plac- 
ing in  juxtaposition;  not  one  of  those,  I  trust,  who  hov- 
ered about  me  during  the  summer,  making  love  to  the 
extent  that  I  would  permit — surely  not  one  of  these." 

"There  was  Reggie  Cowan-Cowans,"  she  said  to  herself, 
"doubtless  God  could  have  made  a  creature  more  ridicu- 
lous than  poor  Reggie,  but  doubtless  He  never  did.  And 
to  think  of  Reggie's  masquerading  as  a  man,"  and  she 
laughed  outright  at  the  mental  picture  of  the  fastidious 
youth  with  his  high-keyed  voice,  his  moustache  waxed  to 
an  attenuation  representing  the  nth  power  on  either  side 
of  his  weak,  sensuous  mouth ;  Reggie  with  his  eternal  cigar- 
ettes, his  monocle  dangling  from  its  broad  black  ribbon, 
his  jaunty,  mincing  airs;  Reggie  the  lady-like  man. 

Others  passed,  a  long  list,  in  review  before  her.  There 
was  no  discounting  the  ardor  with  which  certain  adorers 
had  besieged  her,  nor  the  vehemence  with  which  they  had 
declared  the  tender  passion.  For  her  "the  right  man"  had 
not  yet  appeared.  When  love  should  come  to  her  own  heart 
she  would  know  it  for  a  certainty.  Until  that  happy  mo- 
ment, she  was  willing  to  wait ;  if  it  should  never  come 
she  would  still  have  her  ideal  and  she  could  still  be  happy ; 
for  she  believed  in  work  as  a  panacea  for  the  disappoint- 
ments of  life;  if  happily,  love  came  to  her,  it  would  be 
the  dearest  thing,  the  most  precious  experience,  that  could 
ever  come,  dearer  than  life  itself.  When  she  cared  for 
any  one  enough  to  place  her  own  Jiappiness  in  his  keeping 
it  would  matter  little  where  or  how  she  lived,  so  that  they 
could  go  through  life  hand  in  hand.  Yes,  she  would  give 
freely  when  she  gave  her  heart's  best — but  it  should  be 
given  only  to  a  man  of  character.  He  must  be  strong  of 
purpose,  clean  in  life,  upright,  capable  of  taking  his  place 
among  men,  able  to  do  his  part  in  the  world's  work. 


THE    STANDPATTER  81 

"Thank  you,"  and  she  again  smiled,  "no  lady-like  propen- 
sities for  me." 

Bettina  was  still  thinking  of  the  ridiculous  picture  of 
her  former  suitor  which  she  had  conjured  up,  when  a 
young  man  with  energetic  stride  swung  suddenly  into  her 
horizon ;  he  was  coming  through  the  archway ;  she  recog- 
nized Geoffrey  Canterbury  and,  girl-like,  marked  that  he 
was  looking  uncommonly  well  in  a  smart  suit  of  light  gray. 
His  unexpected  appearance,  the  unmistakable  stamp  of 
distinction  he  bore,  could  not  but  suggest  the  utter  con- 
trast which  he  presented  to  the  dainty  Reginald,  for  Geof- 
frey as  he  strode  forward  appeared  even  more  than  ordi- 
narily the  embodiment  of  strong,  resolute  manhood. 

The  unbidden  thought  flashed  upon  her  that  here  was 
a  man  whom  she  respected,  admired — the  kind  of  man 
whom,  under  certain  conditions,  a  girl  might  love.  He  had, 
through  his  own  efforts,  attained  an  enviable  position 
among  men.  She  admired  him  for  it.  There  were  dazzling 
possibilities  of  usefulness  open  to  him.  She  sincerely 
hoped  he  might  rise  to  the  opportunities.  She  had  spoken 
with  candor  when,  the  evening  before  she  had  frankly  told 
him  she  wanted  to  see  him  on  the  side  of  the  people.  Was 
there  a  possible  rift  in  the  lute?  Could  it  be  that  he  was 
not  at  heart  in  sympathy  with  the  common  people?  If 
not,  what  were  the  motives,  what  could  be  the  influences 
that  actuated  him  in  his  public  career?  Looking  into 
those  honest  gray  eyes  of  his  she  could  not  believe  that 
he  was  consciously  untrue  to  his  trust.  Why,  then,  his 
inaction,  his  lassitude  regarding  the  great  issues  of  the 
day?  He  could  not  be  blind  to  the  fact  that  America  would 
be  robbed  of  her  purpose  of  existence  if  from  her  were 
taken  the  power  to  make  men  free.  Did  he  not  know  that 
the  people  would  no  longer  look  on  tamely  and  see  legisla- 
tures bribed  and  judges  selected  and  controlled  by  "big 
business"?  Could  he  not  see  that  revolution  or  something 
ominously  like  it  was  in  the  air? 

Geoffrey  carried  a  basket  of  roses,  fresh  culled  from  his 
mother's  rose  garden.  Mrs.  Canterbury  for  several  years 
had  devoted  much  care  to  rose  culture.  The  result  was 
a  garden  celebrated  far  and  wide  for  its  variety  of  choice 
specimens. 


82  THE    STANDPATTER 

Geoffrey  placed  the  basket  with  its  gorgeous  riot  of 
color  and  fragrance  at  Bettina's  feet.  "With  my  mother's 
compliments,"  he  said.  "And  she  bade  me  say  that  if 
you  found  any  that  you  especially  liked  she  would  gladly 
have  our  gardener  start  slips  for  you." 

Bettina's  dark  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure ;  they  filled 
with  delight  as  she  looked  over  the  exquisite  roses  one 
by  one,  seeing  something  rare  in  each.  Soon  the  two  were 
busy  arranging  them  in  a  beautiful  cloissonne  jar  that  the 
little  parlor  maid,  Henriette,  brought  and  placed  on  the 
wicker  table. 

Since  Bettina's  visit  to  the  city  Henriette  had  been  in  a 
state  of  ill-suppressed  ecstasy — the  cause,  a  handsome  little 
watch  and  chain,  a  pretty  bauble-like  combination  of  gold 
and  enamel,  brought  to  her  as  a  present  by  her  mistress. 

She  was  wearing  it  now  with  an  ostentation  very  amus- 
ing to  the  others.  The  ladies  of  the  house  had  declared 
she  wore  it  both  night  and  day.  The  climax  had  been 
reached,  however,  when,  wishing  to  call  attention  to  her 
new  possession,  she  innocently  asked  Frau  Wildenow: 
"What  time  ees  eet  by  your  golt  watch  and  chain  ?" 

It  was  with  the  hope  that  opportunity  might  be  found 
for  a  quiet  chat  with  Bettina  that  Geoffrey  sought  excuse 
for  the  morning  call.  He  realized  how  meager  was  the 
chance  for  such  a  talk  with  Miss  Duflfield  as  a  guest  at 
the  Lodge  and  a  house-party  of  an  indefinite  number  as  a 
forthcoming  week-end  event. 

To  find  Bettina  alone  was  rare  good  fortune. 

The  two  had  arranged  and  re-arranged  the  roses  amid 
much  lively  banter  as  to  what  would  prove  most  effective 
and  the  running  response  of  laughter.  That  done,  with 
his  eye  on  a  distant  garden  seat,  Geoffrey  suggested  a  stroll 
in  that  direction. 

"Come,"  he  said,  "let  us  find  a  seat  where  we  can  have 
a  talk,"  and  he  drew  her  arm  within  his  own. 

"Then  it  was  only  a  'belief  that  we've  been  talking." 
Bettina  smiled  gaily  as  she  yielded  to  his  quiet  imperi- 
ousness. 

To  Geoffrey  her  winning  sweetness  appealed  more 
strongly  than  ever  before.  She  was  so  charmingly  her- 
self, so  simply  natural,  so  harmonious  and  lovable.  He 
was  conscious  only  of  a  desire  to  prolong  the  delirious  joy 


THE    STANDPATTER  83 

her  presence  gave  him.  He  knew  for  a  certainty  that  he 
could  never  give  her  up  without  seeking  to  win  her;  but 
for  the  present  he  resolved  to  guard  jealously  the  secret 
of  his  love. 

"You've  been  good  enough  to  speak  about  my  work  at 
Washington.  Will  it  bore  you  if  I  venture  to  talk  shop  a 
little?" 

"On  the  contrary,  it  would  flatter  me  immensely." 

"Well,  I  want  to  say  by  the  way  of  preliminary,  Miss 
Brigham,  that  I  have  the  deepest  respect  for  your  opinion, 
whether  as  to  methods  of  managing  a  big  ranch,  or,  as 
regards  the  larger  affairs  of  government." 

"Thank  you,  but  my  opinions  are  necessarily  much  in 
embryo." 

"Naturally,  but  you're  a  student  and  you're  sincere. 
Your  studies,  possibly  the  influence  of  your  college  train- 
ing, have  brought  you  to  conclusions  which  differ  from 
those  I  have  reached  by  observation  and  contact  with  the 
world — with  conditions,  I  might  say,  as  I  have  found  them. 
For  instance,  you  favor  strongly  the  recall  of  the  judiciary 
under  certain  circumstances.  Much  as  I  would  like  to 
agree  with  you,  I  can  only  see  danger  to  the  country  in 
that  propoganda." 

"Really,"  she  said  in  a  thoughtful  mood,  "it  would  be 
presumptuous  for  me  to  discuss  the  question  with  a  per- 
son of  your  large  experience." 

"Not  in  the  least.     I  want  you  to  speak  freely." 

"But  you  can't  imagine  how  strongly  I  feel  on  that 
subject." 

"All  the  more  reason  for  talking  right  out.  Possibly 
you  can't  realize  how  deeply  I'd  deplore  going  back  to 
Washington  knowing  that  you  questioned  my  motives, 
even  my  integrity,  perhaps."  He  laid  his  hand  lightly  on 
her  arm  as  he  spoke.  "I  know  what  it  is  to  be  misjudged, 
misquoted,  maligned;  to  have  my  every  motive  miscon- 
strued." 

"Censure  is  the  tax  a  man  pays  to  the  public  for  being 
eminent,"  said  Bettina,  sympathetically. 

"I  expect  it  from  the  public,  at  least  I  try  to  endure  it 
with  patience' ;  but,  believe  me,  it  would  hurt  me  more  than 
I  can  say  to  have  you  think  ill  of  me."  He  spoke  earnestly 
and  slipping  his  hand  down  took  hers  in  his  own. 


84  THE    STANDPATTER 

There  was  a  flush  in  her  cheeks,  her  eyes  were  aglow, 
and  her  lips  lightly  quivering  as  she  replied:  "I  never 
expect  to  doubt  your  integrity.  But  I  only  wish— 

"What  is  it  you  wish?"  Geoffrey  smiled  encouragingly 
as  he  met  her  clear  gaze. 

Bettina  looked  far  away  toward  the  purple  mountains 
before  making  reply.  Her  beautiful  eyes  were  half  veiled 
by  their  long,  curving  eyelashes.  She  hesitated  about 
expressing  what  was  in  her  mind  and,  again,  her  feeling 
was  too  poignant  to  leave  it  unspoken.  "I  was  wishing," 
and  she  looked  up  archly,  "that  I  might  see  you  soundly 
converted,  as  the  good  Methodist  brethren  say." 

"And  I'd  like  nothing  quite  so  well  as  to  be  converted 
under  your  kindly  ministrations;  but  I  have  some  trouble- 
some convictions  that  stand  in  the  way.  Now,  what  are 
you  going  to  do  about  that?  Give  me  up  as  a  hopeless 
sinner?" 

"No — while  still  the  lamp  holds  out  to  burn — you  know 
the  rest —  Seriously,  though,  it's  a  tremendous  political 
revival  that's  in  progress — just  as  real  and  almost  as  vital, 
it  seems  to  me,  as  any  of  the  great  epoch-making  religious 
movement  of  the  past.  You  know  its  history  thus  far, 
far  better  than  I.  You  know  how  the  struggle  for  simple 
justice  began  a  few  years  ago  over  there  in  Wisconsin — 
this  movement  back  to  the  people — under  the  leadership  of 
a  man  who  is  a  statesman  and  a  patriot.  There  was  little 
but  ridicule  at  first  for  one  who  boldly  defied,  and  persisted 
in  defying,  big  corporate  interests.  That's  always  a  favor- 
ite weapon  with  the  scoffers;  they  hurled  the  ugly  word 
'demagogue'  at  him,  too;  but  when,  after  repeated  trials, 
he  had  carried  the  state  with  him  on  some  big  questions 
it  wasn't  half-way  funny.  And  now  there's  no  smothering 
the  flames.  They  break  out  in  all  sorts  of  places.  The 
war-cry  is  'Back  to  the  people.'  It's  a  lusty  slogan.  It 
rings  true.  It's  bound  to  win,  too,  for  the  people,  once 
aroused,  always  win."  Bettina  spoke  excitedly,  with 
heightened  color.  "Just  now  your  constituents  especially 
need  your  sympathy  and  your  help,  Mr.  Canterbury." 

"They  have  my  sympathy,  God  knows/'  said  Geoffrey 
solemnly.  "They've  a  right  to  it.  I'm  one  of  them  myself ; 
they'll  have  my  help.  I'd  give  my  heart's  blood  to  serve 
them." 


THE    STANDPATTER  85 

"But  it's  the  courts  that  are  failing  us  at  this  crucial 
time.  Only  yesterday  Mr.  Goodrich  called  on  me  to  help 
with  money  in  the  fight  for  a  reduced  rate  for  citrus 
growers.  It  seems,  as  you  yourself  predicted,  that  we'll 
lose  the  case  in  the  lower  courts — lose  it  on  a  mere  tech- 
nicality set  up  by  the  judge  himself;  Mr.  Goodrich  says — 
and  if  so,  there's  to  be  an  appeal  to  the  higher  courts ; 
but,  even  if  it  goes  to  the  highest  tribunal,  there's  only  a 
chance — a  fighting  chance! — for  the  people  to  win  with 
that  court's  record  for  dividing  where  the  interests  of  the 
plain  people  hang  in  the  balance." 

"Some  of  the  recent  decisions  have  been  pretty  rank, 
that's  a  fact." 

"Why  don't  you  say  that  some  of  them  have  been  grossly 
unfair?  Think  of  that  a  few  years  ago  on  the  income  tax, 
for  example.  For  a  hundred  years  Congress  had  imposed 
it — the  fairest  tax  on  earth — when  wealth,  represented  by 
Wall  Street,  called  upon  the  courts  to  preserve  its  life — 
and  though  the  constitutionality  of  the  law  had  hitherto 
been  unquestioned,  though  the  court  itself  had  not  sug- 
gested trouble  on  the  score  of  its  constitutionality,  on  the 
final  vote  there  was  a  division,  five  out  of  the  nine  judges 
holding  that  the  law  was  unconstitutional.  The  worst  thing 
about  it,  or  that  which  looks  the  worst,  was  that  change  of 
a  vote  at  the  last  minute ;  the  particular  judge  who  changed 
his  vote  had  voted  the  law  constitutional  without  a  demur 
in  .the  preliminary  ballot,  and  before  the  ink  on  his  pen  was 
dry,  declared  it  unconstitutional.  Where  had  he  got  his 
new  light,  do  you  suppose?" 

"It  looks  bad,  truly." 

"It  looks  like  a  case  of  'Simon  bids  you  point  up/  now 
doesn't  it?" 

"But,  my  dear  Miss  Brigham,  let  us  not  lose  confidence 
in  the  courts  because  of  an  isolated  case." 

"Unfortunately,  such  cases  are  too  frequent  to  be  called 
isolated.  The  fact  is  the  more  one  looks  into  the  history 
of  the  courts,  the  less  one  finds  to  commend." 

Geoffrey  laughed  good-naturedly.  "That  reminds  me," 
he  said,  "of  ,the  question  the  judg-e  asked  an  Irish  prisoner 
once  in  my  hearing :  'Are  you  trying  to  show  contempt  for 
the  court?'  'No,  your  Honor/  was  the  reply,  'I  sure  am 
trying  to  conceal  it/  '; 


86  THE    STANDPATTER 

"I  have  always  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  question  of  the 
recall  of  judges  since  I  wrote  my  junior  thesis  on  'The 
Judicial  Veto'  at  Berkeley,"  Bettina  continued. 

"That  was  a  pretty  big  subject.    How  did  you  treat  it?" 

"Oh,  in  a  comparative  way,  mostly.  I  argued  that  the 
right  of  judges  to  annul  laws  because  they  regarded  them 
as  unconstitutional  was  just  the  same  as  the  lords'  veto 
power  in  England;  and  that  we  should  be  compelled,  some 
day,  to  put  a  stop  to  it,  as  the  English  people  are  doing 
now." 

"I  can't  see  how  you  could  make  out  that  our  judicial 
power  to  hold  statutes  to  be  unconstitutional  and  the  veto 
power  of  the  house  of  lords  are  identical — in  view  of  our 
written  constitution,  you  know." 

"Well,  I  took  the  ground  that  the  constitution  didn't 
seem  to  have  much  to  do  with  the  decisions — a  good  many 
of  them.  When  the  same  supreme  court  could  hold  one 
day  that  an  income  tax  was  constitutional  and  on  the  next 
that  it  was  not  constitutional,  the  power  to  decide  such 
questions  became  an  arbitrary  power." 

"I  think  I  see  your  point,  but  didn't  you  base  a  pretty 
broad  conclusion  on  somewhat  narrow  premises?" 

"No,  there's  a  whole  lot  of  cases  like  that — the  legal 
tender  case,  and  all  those." 

"I  cannot  agree  with  you  about  that.  A  great  many 
questions  enter  into  the  constitutionality  of  a  statute,  you 
know." 

"I  dare  say;  but,  to  my  way  of  thinking,  a  lot  of  those 
precedents  are  used — one  heaped  on  another* — until  they 
lose  sight  of  the  constitution  itself.  And  then,  you  know, 
the  whole  system  is  court-made,  as  Dr.  Lindley  said,  The 
fathers  of  the  constitution  never  intended  to  give  the  courts 
the  veto  power.  The  judges  just  got  that  up  to  increase 
their  own  power." 

"You're  hard  on  the  judges.  Do  you  really  believe 
that,  Miss  Brigham?" 

"Indeed  I  do.  I  looked  it  up  in  the  Madison  papers. 
They  voted  down  several  proposals  to  give  the  courts  the 
power  to  decide  laws  unconstitutional.  We  owe  that  to 
John  Marshall,  I  think  that's  his  name." 

"Yes,  that's  the  name  of  our  greatest  jurist — the  inter- 


THE    STANDPATTER  87 

preter  of  the  constitution.  I  hope  you  wouldn't  want  to 
see  his  work  undone." 

"No,  I'm  orthodox  on  that.  I  think  his  theories  were 
possibly  needed  when  he  propounded  them;  but  it's  cer- 
tainly time  to  stop  moving  in  that  direction." 

"I  don't  think  so.  I  believe  we  shall  not  build  securely 
unless  we  use  the  foundations  he  laid.  It  would  work 
all  sorts  of  destruction  to  undo  his  great  decisions." 

"Not  if  we  have  advanced  beyond  his  theories.  Besides, 
Chief  Justice  Marshall,  in  his  warm  championship  of  the 
courts,  went  further,  as  he  very  well  knew,  than  had  been 
intended  at  the  time  the  Constitution  was  adopted." 

"That's  still  a  disputed  point,  I  believe." 

"But  we  must  remember  that  when  the  Constitution  was 
framed  no  court  in  the  world  had  power  to  annul  laws 
regularly  enacted  by  the  legislative  department  of  a  gov- 
ernment." 

"Yes,  I  believe  you're  right." 

"Why  no  European  king    had    that    power.     To  have 

given  the  court  power  to  annul  legislative  acts  through  a 
onstitution  would  have  been  contrary  to  all  practice.  As 
Richard  Spaight,  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Constitution, 
said,  it  would  have  been  'aburd.'  Legislative  and  judicial 
powers  should  never  be  united  in  one  body  of  men.  It 
creates  despotism.  No,  the  courts  usurped  that  power  and 
it  now  becomes  necessary  for  the  people  to  assert  their 
supremacy  over  the  courts.  That's  why  I  believe  so  heart- 
ily in  the  recall  of  judges,  and  still  more  in  the  power  of 
the  people  to  overrule  wrongful  decisions." 

"But  don't  you  think  we  owe  it  to  men  like  Marshall  to 
stand  by  the  institutions  which  have  made  this  a  great  law- 
abiding  nation?" 

"Yes,  I  agree  with  you  that  we  should  stand  by  our 
time-honored  institutions;  but  to  permit  abuses  to  creep 
in  is  to  be  disloyal  to  them;  to  permit  the  courts  to  exer- 
cise legislative  functions  under  the  guise  of  judicial  de- 
crees is  to  be  untrue  to  the  legislative  department  of  the 
government,  also  a  time-honored  institution.  It  is  danger- 
ous to  give  the  courts  an -absolute  veto  upon  legislation. 
The  people 'of  the  states  would  never  have  ratified  such  a 
measure." 


88  THE    STANDPATTER 

"Yet  the  doctrine  that  legislation  was  limited  by  con- 
stitutional restrictions  is  an  old  one — it  existed  in  this 
country  before  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution." 

'There  were  a  few  attempts  to  exercise  such  authority. 
I  know,  but,  in  every  case,  the  people  rose  up  with  a  storm 
of  protest  against  the  usurpation  of  such  power,  even  when 
the  laws  set  aside  as  unconstitutional  could  by  no  means 
be  vindicated.  Wasn't  it  true  that  Marshall's  celebrated 
decision  was  not  followed  by  another  of  its  kind  for  half 
a  century?" 

"Yes,  it  must  have  been  about  that  long ;  but  it  was  the 
rule  for  acts  of  state  legislatures  to  be  subject  to  review  by 
the  judiciary  on  the  ground  of  repugnancy  to  the  federal 
constitution  and  also  to  the  state  constitution." 

"I  recall  distinctly  that  Dr.  Lindley  said  that  even  in 
the  case  of  the  exercise  of  this  power  by  the  judiciary  of 
the  states  that  it  caused  great  public  excitement  and  out- 
cry." 

"Well,  of  course  no  court  would  resort  to  that  expedient 
except  in  an  urgent  case." 

"Such,  for  example,  as  preserving  from  taxation  the 
incomes  of  the  very  rich." 

"Now,  my  dear  Miss  Brigham,  you're  indulging  in 
satire.  Courts,  like  individuals,  are  not  infallible.  That 
explains  why  they  sometimes  overrule  themselves." 

"I've  heard  it  said  the  appellate  courts  of  this  country 
have  overruled  themselves  in  more  than  ten  thousand 
cases.  It's  also  a  matter  of  record,  I  believe,  that  the  fed- 
eral and  state  courts  now  annul  more  laws  in  one  year  than 
they  annuled  during  the  first  half  of  the  nation's  existence." 

"That's  because  of  the  abolition  of  set  rules  in  the 
matter." 

"A  law  is  constitutional  or  the  reverse  according  as  the 
judge  deems  it  wise  or  otherwise;  and  in  almost  every  in- 
stance there's  a  divided  court." 

"That's  very  true.  Some  decisions  the  laity  can  hardly 
understand.  For  instance,  a  law  that  limited  the  hours  of 
labor  in  mines  was  declared  unconstitutional  by  a  Supreme 
court,  by  a  vote  of  six  to  three !  and  again,  by  a  vote  of  five 
to  four,  the  court  declared  that  a  law  limiting  the  hours  of 
labor  in  bakeries  was  unconstitutional,  and  so  it  goes." 


THE    STANDPATTER  89 

Soon  the  two  were  talking  spiritedly  of  the  many  ex- 
tremely technical  decisions  of  the  appellate  courts,  espe- 
cially in  criminal  cases;  decisions  by  which  the  ends  of 
justice  are  defeated;  the  reason  for  remanding  a  case  to 
the  court  of  original  jurisdiction  being  oftentimes  as  tri- 
fling as  a  misspelled  word,  or  the  omission  of  a  letter. 

Bent  on  being  magnanimous,  Geoffrey  cited  several 
interesting  cases  of  this  kind,  which,  he  said,  were  "the 
departures  from  absolute  justice  which  made  a  deep  im- 
pression because  they  were  exceptional." 

"One  of  those  extremely  technical  decisions,"  he  con- 
tinued, "was  rendered  in  my  own  good  state  of  Iowa.  A 
man  was  convicted  of  murder.  An  appeal  took  the  case 
to  the  Supreme  court  and  the  decision  was  there  over- 
ruled. Why?  Because  of  the  fatal  absence  of  the  article 
'the'  in  the  title.  It  should  have  read  'The  State  of  Iowa/ 
etc." 

"As  Uncle  Haredale  says,"  added  Bettina,  "little  things 
are  sometimes  'mighty  pah-ful.'  He  was  telling  me  the 
other  day  about  the  St.  Louis  election  frauds.  You're 
familiar  with  them,  of  course.  One  of  the  crooks,  it  seems, 
was  convicted  of  his  crime,  but  afterwards  went  free  be- 
cause of  the  omission  of  'the'  in  the  original  indictment; 
whereupon  the  prisoner  kindly  relieved  the  state  of  further 
trouble  and  expense  by  jumping  his  bond  and  disappear- 
ing. But  unquestionably  hairsplitting  reached  its  ultima- 
tum, he  says,  when  a  supreme  court  set  its  man  free  when 
it  was  discovered  that  he  had  been  convicted  of  murder  by 
stabbing  his  victim  'in  the  left  breast,'  with  the  word 
breast  spelled  'brest.' " 

"What  a  blow  to  the  spelling  reformer!"  was  Geoffrey's 
laughing  comment. 

"Professor  Lindley  often  told  us  that  in  this  country  the 
greatest  need  in  jurisprudence  was  its  simplification.  Now 
in  England  they've  trimmed  down  their  legal  verbiage  so 
that  an  indictment  for  murder  is  comprised  in  five  lines, 
though  it  formerly  occupied  as  many  pages.  And  a  dear 
old  retired  United  States  circuit  judge,  who  gave  us  a 
talk  now  and  then,  was  honest  enough  to  say  that  no 
lawyer  or 'judge  living  knows  what  the  law  is;  that  pre- 
cedents can  be  found  to  sustain  either  side  of  nearly  every 
question,  and  yet  we  continually  hear  lawyers  admit  that 


90  THE    STANDPATTER 

they  do  not  know  what  the  law  is  until  judges  decide 
cases  for  them.  They  seem  to  have  got  out  of  the  habit 
of  going  to  constitutions  and  laws  themselves  to  learn  by 
their  wording  what  they  mean." 

"Then  let  us  say  its  quits  and  lay  all  our  troubles  on 
the  beastly  legal  phraseology  and  not  on  the  judges.  Come 
now,  be  fair,  Miss  Brigham." 

"But  I'm  trying  to  be  fair  to  the  people.  Do  you  know 
what  Dean  Swift  says  in  his  Gulliver's  Travels?  It's  not 
flattering  to  your  profession,  but  you'll  pardon  me  if  I 
quote  it.  He  says  'it's  a  maxim  among  lawyers,  that  what- 
ever has  been  done  before  may  legally  be  done  again;  and 
therefore  they  take  especial  care  to  record  all  the  decisions 
formerly  made  against  common  justice  and  the  general 
reason  of  mankind.  These,  under  the  name  of  precedents, 
they  produce  as  authorities,  to  justify  the  most  iniquitous 
opinions;  and  the  judges  never  fail  of  directing  accord- 
ingly. In  pleading,  they  studiously  avoid  entering  into 
the  merits  of  the  cause;  but  are  loud,  violent  and  tedious 
in  dwelling  upon  circumstances  which  are  not  to  the  pur- 
pose.' This  was  quoted  in  my  graduation  thesis." 

"Really,  now,  I  never  expected  to  hear  the  author  of 
Gulliver's  Travels  cited  as  a  legal  authority." 

"Now  that  I've  produced  my  highest  card,  I  propose 
hoisting  the  flag  of  truce,  or  whatever  may  stand  for  a 
suspension  of  hostilities." 

"Oh,  there's  to  be  nothing  so  serious  as  hostilities  be- 
tween us,  I  trust — now  or  ever  after." 

Bettina  smiled  her  acquiescence  as  she  said,  "Come  then, 
let  us  seal  the  friendly  compact  by  breaking  bread  together. 
It's  hours  past  luncheon  time." 


THE    STANDPATTER  91 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  next  morning  Bettina  rose  early — before  the  sun  had 
fully  broken  through  the  mists  that  hung  over  Old  Baldy's 
ragged  shoulders.  The  house  was  very  still — still,  with  the 
wierd-like,  almost  ominous  hush  that  belong  to  the  silence 
of  the  early  morning.  She  went  tip-toeing  into  Marcia's 
room,  adjoining  her  own,  and  found  her  sleeping  soundly 
— her  head  pillowed  on  her  round  white  arm,  her  glossy, 
purple  black  hair  lying  in  heavy  braids  and  rippling  waves 
close  to  the  beautiful  face. 

"The  sleeping  Venus,"  she  said,  and  smiled  down  upon 
the  pretty  picture,  then  slipped  away  lest  she  might  yield 
to  the  temptation,  strong  upon  her,  to  stoop  and  kiss  the 
alluringly  dimpled  cheek. 

Ward  Percival  had  called  her  up  by  telephone  the  day 
before  to  say  that  the  party  would  be  a  little  larger  than 
they  had  planned.  He  hoped  the  increase  in  numbers 
would  prove  no  inconvenience.  One  of  his  cousins,  Dr. 
Roderick  Perkins,  had  dropped  in  on  him  unexpectedly 
from  St.  Louis;  he  would  come,  of  course;  and  Phil  had 
invited  Shirley  Cravath  to  join  them. 

"You  don't  know  Cravath?  Yes,  he's  the  Stanford  man, 
class  of  naughty-naught;  surely,  he's  the  very  chap  who's 
taking  a  hand  in  politics — been  circling  the  globe,  so  to 
speak,  making  speeches  and  all  that  sort  of  thing — a  rat- 
tling live  wire — makes  a  bully  speech.  To  be  sure,  he's 
progressive  to  the  finger-tips.  A  'nawfulley'  popular  chap, 
as  the  kiddies  say.  What  girls?  Why  Elisabeth  Wendel- 
berg  and  Hortense  Grahame,  of  course,  and  one  or  two 
visiting  girls — Elisabeth's  friends — names  gone  from  me 
this  minute.  They're  crazy  about  going — want  a  jolly 
new  experience,  don't  you  know?  Nevei  saw  a  rawnch." 

Alessandro,  awake  to  the  significance  of  the  occasion, 
and  fully  alive  to  his  own  responsibility  in  making  it  a 
success,  had  left  for  the  city  the  evening  before;  his  in- 
structions, to  place  himself  and  his  touring  car  at  the 
service  of  'the  party.  If  necessary,  to  get  another  car  and 
a  chauffeur. 

Frau  Wildenow,  who    was  expected    to    chaperone  the 


92  THE    STANDPATTER 

girls,  had,  of  course,  to  go  along;  and,  at  the  last  minute, 
to  the  delight  of  the  twins,  it  was  decided  that  they,  too, 
should  make  the  trip  as  they  were  entitled  to  an  over- 
night's visit  to  their  mother. 

Bettina  had  a  surprise  in  store  for  her  guests,  the  secret 
of  which  she  had,  thus  far,  shared  only  with  Geoffrey  Can- 
terbury. They  were  expected  to  arri-ve  in  time  for  an 
evening  dinner.  In  order,  from  the  outset,  to  emphasize 
the  spirit  of  their  schooldays,  she  had  hit  upon  the  idea 
of  having,  instead  of  the  usual  formal  dinner — she  heartily 
disliked  formality — a  jolly  spread  in  the  big  salle  a  manger; 
to  be  served  at  the  dinner  hour  and  with  rollicking  in- 
formality; to  be  followed  by  songs,  toasts  and  a  varied 
assortment  of  "stunts." 

A  special  order  for  decorations  had  brought  a  delivery 
from  the  city  of  innumerable  pennants,  banners,  mottoes, 
tucked  in  along  with  which  were  caps  and  gowns  for  the 
entire  party;  and  Bettina  fairly  danced  with  delight  on 
discovering  a  music-box  that  rendered  old  college  songs 
dear  to  her  heart. 

It  was  to  put  in  place  the  decorations  that  Bettina  had 
risen  so  early,  a  task  that  Geoffrey  had  begged  the  privi- 
lege of  sharing. 

She  found  him  seated  on  the  veranda  reading  his  morn- 
ing paper;  an  early  newspaper  delivery  being  one  of  the 
advantages  that  the  much-prized  trolley  brought  them. 

"Bon  jour,  monsieur.  Behold  the  typical  man  o'  the 
home  sitting  at  the  door  of  his  castle  reading  his  news- 
paper." 

Geoffrey  rose  with  a  smile  to  extend  his  hand.  "I  have 
you  to  thank  for  a  pretty  compliment." 

"Too  early  in  the  day  for  compliments.  I  deal  only  in 
homely  facts  at  this  unearthly  hour." 

"Homely  facts  for  homely  men,  I  suppose.  I,  too,  state 
but  the  facts  when  I  say  that  I  never  saw  you  look  better 
than  at  this  unearthly  hour.  You  got  in  your  beauty  sleep 
last  night,  I  wager."  There  was  admiration  in  his  eyes. 

Bettina  mockingly  made  him  a  curtsey.  There  was  more 
than  passing  compliment  in  the  look  he  had  given  her,  and 
she  had  not  failed  to  observe  it.  After  the  conversation 
of  the  previous  day  she  had  found  herself  wondering  if 


THE    STANDPATTER  93 

he  was  one  of  those  men  that  fell  in  love  with  every  girl 
they  met,  but  had  dismissed  the  thought  as  unworthy. 

That  same  interview  of  the  day  before  had  cleared  up 
some  things  in  her  mind— he  was  honest,  had  convictions, 
would  be  true  to  them ;  all  this,  though  there  remained  the 
impression  that  he  was  hopekssly  stiff-necked,  chained  to 
traditions  that  were  out  of  harmony  with  present  condi- 
tions— a  curious  thing  in  a  man  still  young. 

Bettina  was  glad,  she  knew  not  why,  that  he  had  been 
unwilling  to  renounce  his  opinions ;  thankful,  too,  that  he 
had  defended  what  she  believed  to  be  a  weak  cause  with 
sucli  earnestness  and  logic  as  he  could  command ;  defended 
it,  she  acknowledged,  in  a  manly,  straight-forward  way — 
and  they  were  opinions  diametrically  opposed  to  her  own. 
She  did  not  doubt  for  a  moment  that  he  wished  to  win 
and  hold  her  good  will ;  and  certainly  his  honesty  entitled 
him  to  it. 

Bettina  was,  after  all,  very  human.  Having  everything 
a  girl  could  desire — culture,  wealth,  beauty,  social  position 
—a  full  mete  of  homage  had  been  hers;  and  she  had  been 
admired,  flattered,  fawned  upon ;  it  would  have  been  singu- 
lar if  she  had  not  grown  to  expect  it  and  feel  its  absence. 
Life  had  given  her  varied  experiences,  but  never  before 
that  of  a  man  combating  her  views.  It  was  clearly  a  new 
sensation,  a  new  experience. 

Soon  the  two  were  engaged  in  creating  that  intangible 
something,  a  college  atmosphere,  for  the  spacious  salle  a 
manger — an  occupation  not  in  the  least  irksome  if  one 
may  judge  by  the  appalling  amount  of  lively  talk  and 
merry  laughter  the  work  entailed. 

Geoffrey  fetched  a  ladder  from  the  old  adobe  toolhouse 
that  he  might  create  a  wonderful  frieze — a  frieze  of  many 
colors  and  bizarre  design,  since  it  was  made  up  of  pen- 
nants of  numerous  schools ;  and,  really,  the  making  of  the 
frieze  would  have  gone  forward  merrily  and  speedily,  too, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  constant  necessity  the  young  man 
was  in  of  consulting  Bettina ;  and  Bettina,  flitting  here 
and  there,  selecting  this  or  that  bit  of  decoration,  reach- 
ing it  up  to  him,  was  distractingly  beautiful.  It  was 
clearly  her  'fault  that  the  making  of  the  frieze  lagged 
sadly,  for  Geoffrey  could  not  be  expected  to  do  anything 
so  commonplace  as  to  fasten  pennants  in  place  with  push- 


94  THE    STANDPATTER 

pins,  when  he  could  by  a  simple  turn  of  the  head  make  a 
study  of  the  marvellous  effects  produced  by  the  sun's  rays 
filtering  through  the  gauzy  curtains  and  falling  aslant  a 
mass  of  red  brown  hair;  and  there  was  the  exquisite  curve 
of  the  cheek  to  consider  likewise ;  cheek  with  the  tint  of  the 
rose  coming  and  going;  tint  of  the  rose  deepening  to  vivid 
coral  in  the  innocent,  mobile  mouth.  Greuze  had  never 
painted  mouth  half  so  sweet,  so  child-like,  so  alluring, 
thought  Geoffrey. 

A  close  observer  might  have  noticed  that  Geoffrey's  re- 
quests were  many ;  nor  could  Bettina  comply  save  by  hand- 
ing him  this  or  that  from  the  foot  of  the  ladder,  her  round 
white  arms  bare  to  the  elbow ;  and,  in  doing  so,  there  were 
those  wondrous  upturned  eyes  with  their  marvellous 
lashes ;  eyes  which  exercised  a  fascination  so  strong  that 
at  times  he  was  seized  with  a  mad  impulse  to  leap  down 
and  enfold  her  in  his  arms. 

It  was  when  looking  up  to  hand  him  a  Stanford  pennant 
that  Bettina  said:  "I  haven't  told  you  who  our  Stanford 
man's  to  be.  You  probably  know  him — Cravath's  his  name 
— Shirley  Cravath,  I  believe." 

Geoffrey  gave  a  slight  start:  "Do  you  mean  that  Cra- 
vath's  to  be  one  of  your  guests  ?  Is  he  a  friend  of  yours  ?" 

"Yes,  and  no;  if  I'm  to  attempt  to  keep  up  with  your 
running  questions:  yes — he's  to  be  one  of  our  party;  and, 
no — I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  the  young  man's  acquain- 
tance, but  I've  often  seen  his  name  in  the  newspapers — his 
pictures,  too ;  and  I'll  be  delighted  to  meet  him.  From  all 
accounts,  he's  clever  and  popular.  He  comes  on  Philip 
Ingalls'  invitation.  Do  tell  me  about  him." 

"I  haven't  a  doubt  you  know  more  about  him  than  I." 
Geoffrey  spoke  with  a  shade  of  coolness.  "He's  very  much 
in  evidence  just  now  politically — is  pushing  and  ambitious 
— and,  most  important  of  all,  he's  a  successful  ladies'  man, 
at  least  I'm  told  so." 

"A  ladies'  man !  I'm  by  no  means  sure  I  approve  of  a 
successful  ladies'  man.  It  sounds  flirtatious.  Just  how 
does  he  manage  to  win  success  in  that  particular  field  of 
human  endeavor?" 

"Alas,  I  know  not.  An  all-wise  Providence  withheld  the 
gift  from  me."  Geoffrey  had  come  down  from  the  heights 
and  the  two  were  seated  where  they  could  view  their 


THE    STANDPATTER  95 

handiwork.  "Cravath's  a  handsome  fellow  for  one  thing 
and  he's  not  lacking  in  self-confidence — two  important  ele- 
ments in  success  whether  with  men  or  women.  I  dare 
say  you'll  like  him." 

"A  republican,  is  he  not?" 

"Calls  himself  republican— belongs  to  the  ultra-insurg- 
ent wing  of  the  party." 

"There's  a  complication  for  you !  Here  I've  been  inno- 
cently congratulating  myself  that  we're  to  have  two  tre- 
mendously big  guns — " 

Geoffrey  looked  at  her  humorously : — "Guns  prove  to  be 
not  even  small  bore  rifles,"  he  said;  "but  that  menace  to 
the  public — toy-pistols,  guaranteed  to  go  off  half-cocked 
and  cause  all  kinds  of  disturbance!  Is  that  it?" 

Bettina  laughed  outright.  "I  confess  to  a  tremor,"  she 
said,  "bringing  together  the  opposite  poles  of  a  big  political 
battery." 

"Well,  Cravath  and  I  are  not  so  far  apart,  after  all. 
We're  both  on  the  same  side,  you  know — at  least  I'm  on 
the  everlastingly  righteous  side,  and  I  dare  say  he  claims 
to  be." 

"We'll  hope  you'll  not  descend  to  blows,  at  any  rate." 

"If  we  do,  you'll  serve  as  referee?" 

"If  you  do,  it's  neutral  ground  for  me." 

"I've  been  thinking,"  and  Geoffrey's  face  grew  serious 
and  tender,  "that  it's  little  I  shall  see  of  you  in  my  few 
remaining  days  here." 

"But  you're  to  give  us  every  minute  you  can  take  from 
your  own  affairs ;  I  count  on  that,  you  see."  Bettina  spoke 
gaily,  the  gaiety  in  a  measure  simulated.  The  thought  of 
his  going  gave  her  a  pang;  and,  again,  she  knew  not  why 
it  should.  She  would  miss  the  pleasant  friendship  that 
had  sprung  up  between  them — that  much  she  knew ;  friend- 
ship that  had  buoyed  her  over  the  first  weeks  of  country 
life  that,  without  this  cheering  diversion,  were  sure  to  have 
been  dull  and  tedious.  She  realized  that  she  would  find 
the  days  different  when  she  could  no  longer  look  forward 
to  his  dropping  in  for  a  chat ;  or,  may  be,  for  a  stimulating 
discussion  of  the  questions  of  the  hour — discussions  all  the 
more  stimulating  that  she  and  her  visitor  were  so  widely 
apart  in  their  premises,  as  well  as  their  conclusions. 


96  THE    STANDPATTER 

"Don't  think  me  beastly  unappreciative,"  he  said  with 
a  lowered  voice.  "When  I  come,  I'll  see  the  brilliant 
hostess* — the  gracious  entertainer,  surrounded  by  a  host  of 
admirers — smiling  on  all  alike — and — well,  I'm  already 
jealous — that's  all,  without  the  shadow  of  a  right  to  be. 
There'll  be  no  show  for  a  word  with  you  alone — it  hurts 
me  to  have  it  so." 

Bettina  averted  her  eyes.  "You'll  enjoy  the  temporary 
excitement  far  more  than  you  think,"  she  remarked  eva- 
sively, and  with  a  smile  seeking  to  lighten  the  situation, 
"but  do  you  see  the  hands  of  that  old  clock?  Would  you 
have  dreamed  it?  And  all  these  flags  to  go  up." 

For  the  time,  Geoffrey's  opportunity  was  gone. 


THE    STANDPATTER  97 


CHAPTER  XVI 

It  was  six  o'clock  when  Ozawa,  his  face  wreathed  in 
smiles,  ran,  quite  out  of  breath,  to  inform  his  mistress  that 
they  were  coming1.  He  had  sighted  them  afar  from  the 
tower  window — Ozawa,  smiling,  serene,  punctilious,  in  a 
livery  white  as  the  snow  that  gleamed  from  Old  Baldy's 
scraggy  head. 

Madame  Canterbury  and  Geoffrey;  looking  rather  stately 
and  impressive  for  an  occasion  designedly  informal,  had 
driven  into  the  archway  shortly  before.  They  had  come 
in  their  old-fashioned  Victoria  behind  the  dappled  grays 
with  Rupert  Yenowine  himself  on  the  box,  handling  the 
ribbons  with  consummate  dignity. 

In  vain  Geoffrey  remonstrated  with  his  mother  against 
retaining  the  old  equipage,  now  growing  dingy  from  long 
service — equally  in  vain  had  he  favored  something  more 
modern — a  touring  car,  or  a  small  electric  runabout,  but 
she  smilingly  declared  them  too  dangerous — at  least  too 
trying  for  her  nerves. 

On  the  veranda,  ready  to  receive  the  guests  whose  merry 
voices  and  gay  laughter  floated  up  in  advance  of  them, 
were  Bettina  and  her  friend  Marcia  Duffield,  with  Madame 
Canterbury  and  Geoffrey.  With  difficulty  Bettina  had  per- 
suaded Dr.  Millbank  to  be  one  of  their  number  in  the  fes- 
tivities of  the  evening.  He  and  his  corps  of  associates 
were  to  join  the  group  later,  Millbank  insisting  that  he 
committed  himself  to  this  program — this  ridiculous  pro- 
gram, he  called  it— simply  to  gratify  Miss  Brigham.  He 
wasn't  any  Beau  Brummel,  he  declared,  in  his  whimsical 
fashion ;  whereupon  Bettina  laughingly  retorted  that  she 
had  never  for  a  moment  suspected  a  relationship  between 
him  and  either  a  Beau  Brummel  or  Ward  McAllister. 

Alessandro's  car  led  the  way  a  short  distance,  a  larger 
one,  of  the  sight-seeino-  variety,  bringing  up  the  rear. 
Frau  Wildenow  with  Paul  and  Jane  at  her  side,  the  latter 
waving  toy  ^balloons,  first  caught  Bettina's  attention. 

Then  came  the  arrival  and  presentations  amid  much  jest- 
ing and  raillery,  Ward  Percival  serving  as  master  of  cere- 
monies. 


98  THE    STANDPATTER 

"Miss  Brigham,  I  want  you  to  meet  Mr  Shirley  Cravath, 
the  best  advertised  man  in  California  to-'lay.  If  we  were 
to  find  that  we  were  getting  out  the  Star  without  a  story 
about  Cravath,  by  the  heaven  above  me,  we'd  stop  the 
presses.  And  his  pictures !  Good  Lord,  we  have  one  for 
every  day  in  the  year.  And  then  some.  The  first  time 
you're  in  the  office,  Betty,  just  ask  me  to  take  you  to  the 
morgue — " 

"To  take  me  to  the  morgue?  Well  I  guess  not,  Ward. 
It's  the  last  place  in  the  world  I  shall  want  to  visit." 

Ward  laughed.  It's  usually  the  last  place  people  visit, 
that's  true — not  exactly  a  matter  of  choice  at  that — but  I 
referred  to  our  little  morgue  where  we  keep  the  pictures 
of  the  truly  great,  like  our  friends  Canterbury  and  Cravath, 
and  a  few  of  the  near-great.  I'll  show  you  Cravath  at 
every  possible  angle." 

Cravath  was  bowing  over  Bettina's  extended  hand,  and 
the  latter  caught  herself  observing  him  rather  closely. 

She  saw  a  man  rather  short  of  stature — considerably 
below  her  own  height,  in  fact — a  man  very  much  at  his 
ease  and  just  now  vastly  amused  at  Ward's  ludicrous  de- 
scription. 

He  was  a  blond  of  so  pronounced  a  type  as  to  suggest 
Scandinavian  nativity — though  he  had  never  been  known 
to  claim  it — stout,  smooth  of  face,  with  eyes  of  deepest 
blue — eyes  large  and  not  unpleasant  in  their  expression, 
looking  through  a  pair  of  rimless  glasses.  He  looked  ex- 
ceedingly well  groomed.  It  was  his  plumpness,  his  all- 
around  smoothness,  that  had  led  to  the  nick-name  of 
"Cupid,"  by  which  he  was  known  among  the  boys. 

"I  am  the  most  fortunate  man  in  Christendom,  Miss 
Brigham,  to  be  one  of  your  party,"  and  Cravath  bowed 
again ;  "I  owe  the  pleasure  to  my  good  friend  Ingalls ;  isn't 
he  a  royal  chap?  Splendid  fellow — the  salt  of  the  earth,  no 
better  to  be  found.  Dr.  Templeton  Ingalls,  his  father,  I'm 
proud  to  count  among  my  friends — j  oiliest  old  rector  in 
the  world.  You  see  I'd  wanted  to  meet  you,  Miss  Brig- 
ham — have  heard  all  sorts  of  complimentary  things  said 
about  your  dazzling  record  at  Berkeley;  and  once  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  hearing  you  speak — happened  to  be  up 
north  at  the  time  of  some  class  doings.  I'll  never  forget 
that  speech  of  yours  on  the  judiciary,  never ;  it  made  a 


THE    STANDPATTER  99 

tremendous  impression  on  me — I  really  think  it  was  the 
determining  factor  in  my  political  life — converted  me  to 
the  doctrine  that  we've  got  to  resist  the  power  and  en- 
croachment of  the  machine  in  politics,  even  to  the  extent 
of  assuming  a  control  of  the  judiciary ;  yes,  indeed,  IVe 
been  talking  it  ever  since.  Your  ground  was  absolutely  in- 
controvertible." 

Bettina  murmured  grateful  appreciation  of  his  flatter- 
ing  opinion.  "Strangely  enough,  the  very  thesis  of  which 
you  speak — I  mean  the  study  I  gave  it — proved  an  awak- 
ening to  me,"  she  said. 

Cravath  smiled  upon  her  and  he  had  a  most  agreeable 
smile.  "I  assure  you,"  still  smiling,  "that  the  little  I  can 
do  to  lift  the  judiciary  out  of  the  mire  in  which  it  is  en- 
gulfed must  be  accredited  to  you.  I  must  have  a  long  talk 
with  you — I  want  to  steal  all  your  powder." 

Further  conversation  at  the  time  was  impossible.  Bet- 
tina turned  to  speak  with  Dr.  Roderick  Perkins,  the  young 
physician,  now  making  his  first  trip  to  the  state,  he  told  her. 

"You're  expected  to  fall  into  line,  Doctor.  Everybody 
raves  about  our  eternal  sunshine,  and  most  people  who 
come  to  scoff,  return — to  stay." 

"I'm  charmed  beyond  measure.  I'd  never  want  to  go 
to  heaven  if  I  were  settled  here.  The  only  trouble  is,  my 
dear  Miss  Brigham,  that  you've  no  use  for  Doctors — 
homeopaths,  allopaths,  osteopaths — as  the  rabble  call  us — 
it's  all  one  to  you." 

"Uncle  Haredale  says  that  all  these  'paths'  of  yours  are 
like  the  path  to  glory — they  lead  but  to  the  grave." 

"Now  you  are  severe,"  and  the  doctor  laughed  heartily. 

Meantime  Geoffrey,  who  had  met  Cravath  in  a  cordial, 
offhand  way,  was  talking  with  Elisabeth  Wendelberg,  who, 
in  turn,  introduced  her  cousin,  Amy  Daggett,  a  pretty  girl, 
with  a  face  strangely  spirituelle — petite,  refined,  delicate 
almost  to  the  point  of  fragility.  She  was  recovering  from 
a  severe  illness  and  had  left  her  home  in  the  Middle  West 
at  the  command  of  the  family  physician.  Miss  Daggett 
was  musical,  had  studied  in  Germany  and  returned  to  this 
country  with  the  expectation  of  doing  concert  work,  but 
her  severe  application  at  Leipzig  had  been  too  taxing  for 
her  delicate  constitution.  For  the  present  her  plans  had 
been  abandoned.  ' 


100  THE    STANDPATTER 

Greetings  well  over  there  came  a  temporary  lull.  Guests 
were  conducted  to  their  several  apartments,  each  with  quiet 
instructions  to  reappear  on  the  ringing  of  a  bell- — to  reap- 
pear after  donning  those  habiliments  of  learning — the  cap 
and  gown. 

Frau  Wildenow  hurried  Paul  and  Jane,  happy  but  tired, 
to  the  point  of  listlessness,  to  their  own  little  rooms,  their 
own  wee  beds,  after  the  maid  had  brought  them  bowls  of 
bread  and  milk  for  which  they  clamored  noisily;  and,  sad 
to  say,  ate  too  greedily  for  either  fautless  manners  or  good 
digestion. 

Bettina  and  Marcia  had  put  the  finishing  touches,  those 
last  lingering  and  refined  touches  which  mean  so  much, 
on  the  big  circular  table ;  Geoffrey  again  looked  after  a 
needed  adjustment  of  the  electric  lights,  which  he  had  in 
charge ;  Madame  Canterbury  had  been  favored  with  a  peep 
into  the  brilliantly-lighted  room  with  its  novel  decorations 
and  declared  it  the  acme  of  artistic  cleverness ;  and,  finally, 
the  doors  thrown  open,  the  signal  was  given  to  Trowbridge 
to  take  up  his  line  of  march  through  the  wide  halls  ring- 
ing a  great  copper  bell. 

f\nd  now  the  guests  came  trooping  down  the  winding 
stair,  laughing,  chatting,  whistling,  expectant,  singing 
snatches  of  new  songs — curiosity  rife  as  to  what  the  order 
of  proceedings  was  to  be,  but  each  ready  to  seize  upon 
the  slightest  clue  and  drop  spiritedly  into  any  desired  role. 

Geoffrey  led  Miss  Daggett  to  the  piano.  Her  fingers 
ran  lightly  over  the  keys,  and  softly,  as  if  by  way  of  pre- 
lude, there  filled  the  rooms  the  familiar  strains  of  Old 
Hundred — "Praise  God  from  Whom  all  blessings  flow," 
given  with  surpassing  sweetness  of  expression — a  benedic- 
tion, sweet  and  simple ;  in  giving  which  Miss  Daggett  was 
following  a  custom  adopted  on  her  recovery  from  her  ill- 
ness when  she  had  been  brought  face  to  face  with  death 
— a  beautiful  thank  offering  it  was  for  her  restoration  and 
one  which  she  never  omitted. 

A  moment  later  came  a  crash  of  music;  gayety  in  full 
swing  now;  a  moment  more,  this  time  the  rythmic  swing 
and  sway  of  a  grand  march,  led  by  Geoffrey  and  Bettina, 
the  two  carrying  themselves  with  regal  bearing.  College 
songs,  punctuated  with  college  yells,  made  the  rafters  ring. 
Leading  all  was  the  old-time  favorite, 


THE    STANDPATTER  I6i' 

"Gaudeamus  igitur,  juvenes  dum  sumus — " 
and  following  it,  in  turn,  the  lighter,  more  modern  and 
none  the  less  soul-stirring  melodies  of  a  later  day. 

Rollicking  fun  was  destined  to  prevail  that  evening.  It 
held  full  sway,  broke  out  in  song,  in  repartee,  badinage,  in 
witty  jest,  in  story.  Restraint  was  unknown.  Ward  and 
Philip  were  the  ring-leaders,  boisterous  at  times,  and, 
where  they  went,  no  one  hesitated  to  follow.  Even  Mill- 
bank  was  in  hilarious  mood,  as  to  the  manner  born,  and 
told  stories  with  the  best  of  them. 

Geoffrey,  who  serving  as  maitrc  dc  ccremonie,  sat  oppo- 
site Bettina — a  situation  not  altogether  to  his  liking  when 
he  saw  how  easily  and  naturally  .it  gave  the  post  of  honor, 
at  Bettina's  right,  to  Cravath,  in  whom  he  could  plainly 
see  a  rival  for  Bettina's  heart,  as  well  as  a  foe  in  the  politi- 
cal field;  at  Geoffrey's  right,  the  brilliant  Elisabeth  Wen- 
delberg;  at  his  left,  pretty  Amy  Daggett,  whose  musical 
gifts  had  impressed  all  as  favorably. 

Dr.  Perkins  sat  at  Bettina's  left,  while  in  the  center  on 
either  side  were  Madame  Canterbury  and  Frau  Wildenow, 
enjoying  to  the  utmost  the  brilliant  medley  of  song  and 
story  following  the  impressive  pageant  with  its  gorgeous 
mural  setting. 

Only  one  course  seemed  open  to  Geoffrey.  He  and 
Cravath  might  be  enemies  to  the  end  of  their  days — prob- 
ably would  be.  Cravath  had  openly  denounced  him  again 
and  again  in  his  speeches,  in  a  way,  too,  that  a  man  cannot 
easily  pardon  since  it  reflected  upon  his  honor,  his  integ- 
rity, his  good  name — but  for  this  one  time,  loyalty  to  their 
hostess  bade  him,  in  his  capacity  of  toastmaster,  give  the 
man  occupying  a  seat  at  her  right  the  highest  honor. 

But  Geoffrey  resented  Cravath's  presence  at  this  time. 
There  was  now  no  doubt  in  his  mind,  it  had  come  to  him 
in  many  ways,  that  the  latter 's  wife  had  secured  a  divorce 
two  years  before;  for  this  alone  society  would  hesitate  to 
ostracize  a  man  of  brilliant  social  parts,  but  there  had 
been  much  unpleasant  talk,  the  tongue  of  scandal  had 
wagged,  there  had  been  many  unsavory  rumors  connected 
with  the  affair. 

Philip  Ingalls  must  have  known  this;  he  ought  to  have 
understood  that  a  man  with  a  record  of  that  sort  was  not 
one  to  be  thrust  lightly  upon  a  young  hostess.  Philip  had 


102  THE    STANDPATTER 

taken  an  unwarranted  liberty,  aided  and  abetted  by  Ward, 
who  had  gone  so  far  as  to -give  him  a  character,  by  tele- 
phone; but  if  Cravath  in  the  maelstrom  of  a  political  cam- 
paign making  speeches  to  a  noisy  rabble  and  paying  court 
in  moments  of  pause  to  innocent  girls  of  the  villages 
through  which  he  passed  was  a  figure  far  from  admirable, 
by  what  system  of  logic  should  he  be  freely  admitted  to 
the  inner  circle  of  the  socially  elect?  As  for  Geoffrey, 
he  had  solved  the  problem  by  adhering  to  the  old-school, 
fundamental  theories  imbibed  in  early  youth,  adopted  in 
mature  manhood,  theories  sufficiently  straight-laced  to  put 
honest  women  alike  on  the  same  high  level,  and  far  above 
the  reach  of  the  trifler. 

But  from  the  moment  that  Bettina  had  told  him  of 
Cravath's  coming,  Geoffrey  had  been  convinced  that 
there  was  something  more  than  mere  coincidence  in  the 
appearance  of  his  political  rival  on  the  scene  at  this 
time ;  an  ulterior  motive  he  did  not  doubt.  His  curiosity 
was  piqued.  He  would  at  least  be  on  his  guard.  If  a 
trap  were  being  set  for  him  he  would  not  walk  into  it 
with  closed  eyes. 

Such  was  the  undercurrent  of  Geoffrey's  thought, 
though  not  even  his  mother,  who  flattered  herself  that 
she  never  failed  to  read  his  every  mood,  suspected  it. 
His  never-failing  humor  and  brilliant  sallies  of  wit  car- 
ried the  merry  program  forward  with  waxing  enthusiasm 
— enthusiasm  finding  expression  in  sudden  bursts  of  ap- 
plause, and  wild  manifestations  of  approval. 

And  so  the  evening,  foredoomed  by  every  token  to 
success,  drew  to  a  brilliant  close  with  Cravath's  clever 
toast  to  "the  ladies."  If  the  speaker  had  any  embarrass- 
ing memories  not  the  ghost  of  one  arose  to  trouble  him. 
"The  ladies — as  subject?  Why,  bless  your  heart,  Mr. 
Toastmaster,  there's  a  mistake  somewhere;  in  California 
ladies  are  never  subject,  they  are  sovereign."  For  the 
moment  no  doubt  he  believed  it;  no  one  questioned  his 
rich  and  ample  knowledge  of  the  subject. 


THE    STANDPATTER  103 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  days  passed  swiftly.  Liberty  to  do  what  they 
liked  best,  to  amuse  themselves  in  their  own  way,  to 
come  and  go  as  they  wished,  made  the  holiday  a  real 
one — for  Bettina's  guests.  That  was  her  idea  of  hos- 
pitality. 

There  was  mountain  climbing  for  those  who  enjoyed 
it ;  motoring  for  all  who  were  so  inclined.  Tennis  had 
its  devotees  and  bridge  its  willing  slaves.  There  was 
not  a  dull  moment. 

One  early  morning  was  given  to  horseback  riding,  but 
the  old-fashioned  pastime  did  not  stand  in  high  favor; 
and  Marcia  DurBeld,  who  adored  horses,  and  Philip  In- 
galls,  who  adored  Marcia  and  made  no  secret  of  it,  were 
the  only  ones  for  whom  mounts  were  regularly  brought 
to  the  door  by  Alessandro. 

Cravath  was  one  of  the  merriest  as  he  was  one  of  the 
most  active  of  the  party.  Every  feature  of  ranch  life 
interested  him.  He  chatted  with  Millbank  by  the  hour 
when  the  latter  was  about  his  duties,  bringing  out  by 
his  questions  minute  details  of  the  scientific  processes 
employed  by  the  older  man.  He  pressed  Trowbridge  into 
personally  conducting  him  up  the  mountain  to  see  the 
sources  of  the  water  supply,  at  the  same  time  making  a 
study  of  the  intricate  phases  of  irrigation.  He  won  Frau 
Wildenow's  favor  by  his  studious  attention  to  her  every 
wish!  and  as  for  the  twins,  they  thought  him  the  very 
jolliest  man  they  had  ever  seen. 

In  turn,  Paul  and  Jane  amused  him  immensely.  After 
his  brief  visit  to  the  city,  Paul  started  in  anew  to  explore 
the  ranch,  a  favorite  field  of  operation  being  the  old 
adobe  toolhouse,  where  he  found  much  to  excite  his 
curiosity.  One  day  he  was  missing  for  a  long  time. 
Little  Jane  could  not  tell  where  she  had  last  seen  her 
little  brother  and  Frau  Wildenow,  who  held  herself  re- 
sponsible t  for  the  children,  was  growing  uneasy  when 
he  emerged  from  the  old  adobe  with  jumpers  tattered 
and  torn  and  his  small  person  very  much  enveloped  in 
cobwebs. 


104  THE    STANDPATTER 

"Hello,  Paul !"  called  Cravath.  "Come  here  this  min- 
ute and  give  an  account  of  yourself,  you  young  rascal." 

Paul  hung  his  head.  "I  was  just  in  the  toolhouse,  'n 
'at  was  all,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  but  why  under  the  heavens  did  you  stay  so 
long?  We  thought  you  were  lost  and  we'd  have  been 
searching  for  you  in  a  jiffy — searching  all  over  creation. 
I  suspect  we'd  have  had  to  get  a  pack  of  hounds  to  help 
us —  Paul  never  tired  of  stories  of  the  rescue  of  chil- 
dren by  dogs.  They  stirred  his  imagination. 

"But  I  couldn't  get  out.    The  door  was  locked." 

"But  how  did  you  get  out  finally?"  said  Bettina. 
"Come,  tell  us  how  you  managed  it?" 

"Why,  I  dess  found  a  crowbar  and  'en  I  crowed  my- 
self out,  o'  course,"  he  declared. 

To  be  true  to  history,  it  must  be  confessed  that  Cra- 
vath had  come  to  Aztec  Lodge  with  a  fixed  purpose — 
sad  to  tell,  with  the  selfish  purpose  of  advancing  his  own 
political  interests ;  as  well  as  of  improving,  if  possible, 
his  financial  situation.  His  success  during  the  campaign 
that  had  just  closed,  the  popularity  he  had  won,  unex- 
pected even  to  himself,  the  confidence  he  had  been  able 
to  inspire  in  his  ability  to  do  things,  both  as  a  speaker 
and  an  organizer,  a  confidence  which  led  the  progressive 
leaders  to  put  him  forward  as  the  one  man  who  could, 
they  believed,  raise  aloft  and  carry  to  the  front  the  ban- 
ner of  victory  against  Canterbury  in  the  fierce  congres- 
sional fight  that  was  sure  to  be  on  a  year  hence,  had 
aroused  his  ambition  to  a  point  that  knew  no  limit.  Lack 
of  funds  alone  stood  as  an  obstacle.  He  needed  money, 
must  have  it  if  he  were  to  win  the  large  place  that 
loomed  up  before  him  in  the  political  horizon  and  seemed 
within  easy  grasp. 

He  must  either  win  fortune  by  his  unaided  efforts — a 
slow  process,  at  best — or,  he  must  exercise  prudence  and 
put  much  money  in  his  purse  by  marriage. 

Cool  and  calculating  to  the  last  degree  was  his  analy- 
sis of  the  situation. 

True,  large  fortunes  were  being  made  by  judicious  in- 
vestment, the  opportunity  for  getting  rich  quick  was 
more  promising  than  it  had  ever  been  in  Southern  Cal- 
ifornia. The  eyes  of  an  eager  world  were  fixed  on  this 


THE    STANDPATTER  105 

vast  orchard  belt,  this  sunny  garden  spot,  where  life 
was  a  joyous  summer  day. 

The  opening  in  the  near  future  of  a  world-wide  com- 
merce through  the  completion  of  the  Panama  Canal 
would  bring  teeming  millions  to  this  land  of  promise, 
this  state  of  progressive  principles.  Yes,  fortunes  were 
still  to  be  gathered  in,  but  they  were  not  for  him. 

It  takes  money  to  make  money ;  and  money  he  did  not 
have.  "The  destruction  of  the  poor  is  their  poverty." 

The  dilemma,  simplified  by  process  of  reasoning,  of- 
fered but  one  horn,  and  this  Shirley  Cravath  grasped — 
he  would  wed  a  fortune. 

He  had  spoken  the  truth,  though  not  the  whole  truth, 
when  he  had  told  Bettina  that  he  had  long  been  inter- 
ested in  her. 

From  the  moment  that  the  word  had  gone  out  that  this 
young  girl  of  wealth  and  charm  and  distinction  had 
chosen  Aztec  Lodge  as  a  home — had  built  her  altar  and 
set  up  her  Lares  and  Penates  there — Aztec  lodge  lying 
in  the  proximity  to  the  extensive  acres  of  Geoffrey  Can- 
terbury's alfalfa  ranch — Cravath  had  scented  danger.  He 
resolved  on  investigation;  investigation  to  be  made 
through  Philip  Ingalls. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Phil  Ingalls,  that  Miss  Brig- 
ham  and  the  gallant  Geoffrey  are  already  friends?"  Cra- 
vath had  adroitly  led  the  conversation  to  a  point  where 
he  could  ask  the  question. 

"More  than  friends  unless  all  signs  fail." 

"For  a  standpatter,  the  chap's  alarmingly  progressive, 
now  isn't  he?" 

"Oh,  the  principle  is  to  get  hold  of  everything  in  sight 
and  then — stand  pat.  That's  the  foundation  of  stand- 
patism,  you  know." 

"By  George,  that's  a  pretty  good  definition.  I'll  get 
it  off  in  my  first  speech." 

"No  extra  charge  for  it." 

"Well,  you're  shrewd,  old  man,  but  that  girl's  a  blamed 
sight  too  democratic  to  accept  Geoff  Canterbury's  poli- 
tics." Cravath  studiously  refrained  from  manifesting  en- 
thusiasm. Philip  should  not  know  that  he  was  person- 
ally interested. 

"Do  you  know  her,  Cravath?" 


106  THE    STANDPATTER 

"No,  but  I'd  like  to  see  her  place  mighty  well.  I'd 
like  to  see  how  she's  doing  the  thing." 

"Better  join  our  little  house  party.  We're  to  spend  a 
few  days  at  the  Lodge."  Philip  had  no  sooner  said  the 
words  than  he  regretted  them.  He  remembered  charges 
that  had  never  been  cleared  up  and  he  realized  that  Miss 
Brigham  was  punctilious  in  certain  matters.  But  the 
invitation  had  been  given  and  he  saw  no  way  to  with- 
draw it;  besides,  it  was  hardly  probable  that  Bettina 
would  ever  know  anything  about  it. 

"I  accept  on  the  spot.  I'll  be  glad  to  meet  that  girl, 
too;  understand  she's  a  thoroughbred."  Cravath  did  not 
drop  the  subject  until  all  plans  were  made.  He  was  se- 
cretly exulting  in  his  power  to  manage  a  difficult  situ- 
ation. The  very  thing  he  had  most  desired  had  come  to 
him. 

Bettina  found  much  to  occupy  her  during  the  days  of 
the  house  party,  and  yet  she  was  always  ready  for  a 
quiet  chat  with  any  one  who  seemed  to  desire  it. 

Cravath  pushed  his  way  for  an  early  interview.  He 
was  too  much  in  earnest  to  let  an  opportunity  pass.  He 
had  established  an  easy,  friendly  footing  with  Bettina. 
His  bearing  proclaimed  him  a  man  of  the  world — affable, 
breezy,  forceful,  self-reliant.  If  his  manner  sometimes 
seemed  over-familiar  for  a  brief  acquaintance,  it  was  par- 
doned as  being  that  of  the  thorough-going  cosmopolitan. 

They  were  seated  a  little  apart  from  the  rest  the  morn- 
ing* after  his  arrival,  when  Cravath  remarked :  "I  im- 
agine you'll  miss  our  friend  Canterbury  now  that  he's 
going  back  to  Washington." 

"Truly,  we  shall  miss  him.  I  think  everybody  on  the 
ranch  deplores  his  going." 

"I  like  the  man  better  than  his  politics." 

"He's  faithful  to  his  convictions,  and  that  covers  a 
multitude  of  shortcomings." 

"I'm  mightily  pleased  to  know  you  believe  in  his  hon- 
esty. I'd  give  two  bits  this  minute  to  know  what  he'll 
do  for  the  lemon-growers  down  Berendo  way.  They're 
in  a  pickle  over  that  lawsuit." 

"You  can  rely  upon  him,  my  word  for  it.  He's  con- 
servative, it's  true,  temperamentally  so;  I  fancy  it's  be- 


THE    STANDPATTER  107 

cause  he  has  the  lawyer's  way  of  looking  at  things.  But 
he'll  do  the  right  thing;  that  is,  the  right  as  he  sees  it." 

"You  ought  to  be  able  to  influence  him." 

"Not  at  all.  We  have  talked  it  over — I  like  to  air  my 
views  you  know — but  he's  not  a  man  that  permits  an- 
other to  do  his  thinking  for  him."  There  was  a  tinge 
of  coolness  in  Bettina's  voice  and  manner. 

"You  know  what  they're  saying,  of  course — that  Can- 
terbury has  pledged  his  support  to  the  Great  Southern 
in  this  freight  business  in  exchange  for  the  chairmanship 
of  a  leading  House  committee?" 

"Who's  saying  such  a  beastly  thing?  It's  not  true. 
It's  unthinkable.  No  one  could  believe  it  who  knows  Mr. 
Canterbury." 

"I  think  it's  partly  inference.  It's  known  that  he  had 
a  private  conference  with  Billy  Crewe  at  the  Cherokee 
last  week — Crewe's  the  man  that  does  the  dirty  work 
for  the  G.  S.,  you  know — and  Crewe  has  since  let  it  slip 
that  Canterbury's  to  be  chairman  of  the  House  Judiciary 
committee.  It's  a  pretty  big  place  for  so  young  a  man." 

"It's  downright  malicious  to  say  those  dreadful  things 
about  a  man  just  because  he's  in  politics.  You  ought 
not  to  repeat  such  a  story,  Mr.  Cravath." 

"Why,  my  dear  Miss  Brigham,  I  had  no  idea  you'd 
take  the  matter  seriously.  It's  simply  common  talk  I'm 
giving  you." 

."So  much  the  worse.  By  what  system  of  ethics  can 
you  defend  the  breaking  down  of  a  man's  character — 
destroying  his  reputation,  on  a  mere  rumor — the  gossip 
of  the  hotel  lobby?" 

"Come  now,  dear  Miss  Brigham,  •  forgive  me ;  I  ap- 
ologize humbly.  My  interests  are  so  strongly  on  the  side 
of  the  people  that  I'm  over  zealous  in  their  behalf.  I  love 
the  common  people.  I'm  enrolled  to  fight  their  battle.  Not 
for  anything  in  the  world  would  I  offend  you,  believe 
me — I  admire  you  too  sincerely,  I  owe  you  too  great  a 
debt.  Why,  dear  Bettina — may  I  call  you  by  that  name? 
It's  a  beautiful  name.  To  me  you  represent  all  that  is 
noble  and  lovely  in  womanhood — my  highest  ideal." 

There  was  real  feeling  in  the  tone  of  Cravath's  voice. 
Bettina  accepted  his  expressions  as  an  earnest  of  his 
interest  in  the  people. 


108  THE    STANDPATTER 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said;  "I  should  not  have 
spoken  so  severely.  I  know  and  appreciate  your  atti- 
tude politically.  I'm  in  sympathy  with  the  movement 
to  restore  power  to  the  people  who  alone  have  the  right 
to  wield  power  in  this  country.  I  have  no  patience  with 
this  openly  expressed  sentiment  in  high  places  that 
they're  unfit  to  rule." 

Bettina  rose  as  she  spoke  and  Cravath  understood 
that  their  conversation  was  at  an  end.  He  believed,  how- 
ever, that  her  confidence  in  Geoffrey  Canterbury  had 
been  permanently  shaken. 


THE    STANDPATTER  109 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  long,  lazy  morning  at  Aztec  Lodge,  one  of  the  not 
unfrequent  "gray  mornings"  of  the  coast  country — gray 
with  a  tinge  of  gold  in  the  eastern  horizon — morning  fol- 
lowed by  a  late  luncheon.  And  now  the  reluctant  sun- 
beams had  gained  the  victory  over  the  mists  of  the  early 
morning.  There  was  a  flood  of  sunshine. 

Luncheon  over,  the  young  ladies  disappeared  mys- 
teriously, slipping  away  one  by  one  for  an  hour's  rest. 

Ward  and  Dr.  Perkins  had  restuned  their  target  prac- 
tice of  the  forenoon — it  had  a  singular  fascination  for  the 
two — while  the  other  men  looked  on  idly  or  took  an  oc- 
casional drive  at  the  bull's  eye  for  themselves. 

Bettina  had  stolen  to  her  desk  intent  on  bringing  up 
her  correspondence,  now  alarmingly  in  arrears.  She 
was  busy  writing  notes,  mainly  called  out  by  her  inter- 
ests in  local  or  state  chanties  or  by  business  exigencies — 
notes  on  matters  concerning  which  the  "Little  Mother" 
did  not  feel  competent  to  pass — when  Ozawa  entered 
quietly,  a  note  upon  his  tray. 

It  was  the  first  time  Bettina  had  seen  Geoffrey's  clear, 
bold  writing — she  knew  instinctively  the  note  was  from 
him — and  she  scrutinized  it  with  interest  not  unmingled 
with  curiosity  before  breaking  the  seal.  There  was  but 
a  line — 

Dear  Miss  Brigham : 

With  your  permission  I'll  be  over  at  three.  Must 

have  a  quiet  talk  with  you  at  whatever  cost.     We 

leave  at  six. 

Devotedly  yours, 

GEOFFREY  CANTERBURY. 

The  messenger  awaited  a  reply,  Ozawa  said,  and  Bet- 
tina in  a  large,  angular,  girlish  hand  hastily  wrote  a  gay 
little  note  of  welcome,  playfully  charging  him  with  hav- 
ing been  w.ofully  remiss  in  his  duty  to  the  Lodge  since 
the  evening  of  their  college  carnival.  He  doubtless 
thought  them  entirely  given  over  to  frivolity,  which  was 
absurd.  It  was  ages  since  she  had  seen  him. 


110  THE    STANDPATTER 

The  note  dispatched,  Bettina  sat  back  in  her  chair  for 
several  minutes,  her  eyes  veiled  by  their  long  curved 
lashes,  looking  dreamily  into  space — absorbedly  think- 
ing— not  of  the  forthcoming  interview,  interesting 
though  it  promised  to  be — but  of  the  disturbing  story 
that  had  come  to  Cravath's  ears,  and  still  more  of  what 
course  she,  as  a  friend  of  Geoffrey  Canterbury,  ought  to 
take — in  the  premise. 

She  had  tried  faithfully  to  look  at  the  ugly  charge  dis- 
passionately;  from  whatever  angle  she  viewed  it,  her 
sense  of  justice  branded  it  as  false,  her  reason  rejected  it 
as  impossible — and  yet  her  mind  was  oddly  disquieted. 
If  she  were  to  follow  her  own  impulse  she  would  tell  him 
frankly  what  was  being  said  in  hostile  political  circles 
and  await  his  explanation.  She  disliked  indirect  methods; 
but  there  was  a  question  whether  she  ought  to  treat  it 
with  so  much  consideration,  she  who  knew  so  little  of  cam- 
paign methods,  of  campaign  stones. 

She  determined  to  await  developments,  then  speak  to 
him  or  not,  as  seemed  best.  Having  reached  that  sensi- 
ble conclusion,  she  did  what  most  girls  would  have  done 
without  such  delay — namely,  went  and  donned  her  pret- 
tiest frock — giving  the  question  whether  she  should 
favor  pale  blue  or  a  lovely  lavender  creation  that  serious 
consideration  which  its  importance  demanded,  ending  by 
choosing  the  pretty  lavender — and  then  she  arranged  her 
hair  in  the  most  becoming  way  she  knew  anything  about. 

The  house  was  so  still  as  to  seem  deserted  when  Geof- 
frey mounted  the  veranda  steps. 

Bettina  gave  him  smiling  welcome.  She  had  felt  his 
absence,  had  missed  their  pleasant  camaraderie  more 
than  she  would  have  been  willing  to  confess.  She  was 
honestly  glad  to  see  him.  The  rosy  flush  in  her  face,  the 
unusual  sparkle  of  the  eye,  the  very  dimples  as  they 
came  and  went  in  the  smooth  round  cheeks  proclaimed 
her  genuine  pleasure ;  and  Geoffrey's  heart  leaped  within 
him.  His  pulses  throbbed.  Never  was  woman  so  lovely, 
he  thought,  as  this  divinely  tall,  slender  girl,  this  radiant 
maid — this  maid  of  the  bright,  red-brown  hair,  of  the 
dark,  bewitching  eyes,  of  the  sweet,  mobile  mouth. 

He  held  for  a  minute  the  firm,  white  hand  she  extended 
to  him,  then  drew  the  bare  round  arm  through  his  own 


THE    STANDPATTER  111 

as  the  two  passed  with  lively  banter  into  the  house  and 
settled  themselves  in  a  nook  in  the  library. 

Frau  Wildenow,  who  caught  sight  of  them  from  her 
favorite  window  seat  in  the  big  living  room,  murmured: 

"Gott  im  Himmel!  How  the  dear  Herr  Geoffrey  adores 
das  Hebe  Kind,  and  she  so  blind  to  it  all  the  time.  She 
cares  for  him  more  than  she  thinks — that  much  I  know 
— and  oh,  he's  just  the  husband  for  her.  Der  Hebe  Gott 
brought  the  two  together." 

"It  was  heavenly  kind  of  you  to  see  me  alone,"  Geof- 
frey bent  a  tender  look  upon  her  as  he  spoke.  "I  feared 
you  couldn't  manage  it." 

"Oh,  circumstances  made  it  quite  easy,  for  a  wonder. 
The  girls  always  rest  at  this  hour  and  the  men  are  off 
for  a  long  country  tramp,"  she  hastened  to  reply,  speak- 
ing with  a  careless  inflection  to  offset  the  dangerously 
tender  note  in  his  voice. 

"And  you  knew — you  must  have  known — "  he  spoke 
slowly  with  suppressed  feeling,  measuring  his  words — 
"that  I  couldn't  leave  without  seeing  you  once  more — I 
couldn't  go  without  telling  you  what  you  must  have 
guessed — what  I  can  no  longer  conceal — not  if  I  should 
try — that  I  love  you — oh,  I  love  you — more,  far  more, 
than  I  can  ever  tell  you.  I  want  you  for  my  own,  for 
my  wife.  Dear  Bettina,  I  can  never  be  happy  without 
you.  Tell  me  that  you'll  be  mine." 

.There  was  a  moment  of  silence.  Tears  welled  up  in 
Bettina's  eyes,  a  pallor  overspread  her  sensitive  face,  her 
lips  quivered.  "That  would  be  impossible,  quite  impos- 
sible." It  was  a  low,  strained  voice  in  which  she  spoke. 
"I  am  so  sorry,  so  very  sorry  to  disappoint  you,  but  when 
you  think  it  all  over  carefully  you  will  agree  with  me." 
She  was  greatly  agitated. 

It  was  Geoffrey's  turn  to  be  grave  now.  He  had  not 
dared  hope  to  win  her  easily,  but  he  was  not  prepared 
for  this  solemn  refusal — for  this  note  of  finality. 

"Bettina,  tell  me  truly — is  there  some  one  else?  God 
help  me  if  I  must  give  you  up."  He  bowed  his  head  as 
if  a  blow  w,ere  about  to  descend. 

"No,  oh,  no ;  there's  no  one  else." 

"Then  it's  not  impossible ;  thank  God  for  that."  There 
was  a  cheerful  ring  in  his  voice  now.  "You  will  learn 


112  THE    STANDPATTER 

to  care  for  me.  I  can  make  you  happy.  My  mother,  too, 
loves  you.  She  would  welcome  you  as  a  daughter — wel- 
come you  with  open  arms.  Tell  me  you  didn't  mean 
that  you  could  never  marry  me.  I  was  too  abrupt,  I 
startled  you.  Forgive  me,  and  do  not  try  to  make  up 
your  mind  now.  I'll  be  satisfied  with  a  chance  to  win 
your  affection.  You  like  me  a  little  bit,  don't  you?" 

Bettina  smiled  again,  her  composure  restored,  her 
color  regained — "Why,  of  course,  I  like  you — I  really 
enjoy  your  society  and  have  found  your  friendship  dear 
from  the  first,  but — " 

"You  don't  trust  me,  then?  Is  that  it?  A  man  in 
public  life  has  his  enemies — those  ready  to  stab  him  in 
the  dark — I  know  it,  I  have  such  enemies,  as  well  as 
others ;  it  could  not  be  otherwise,  though  I  will  not  per- 
mit myself  to  be  stung  into  bitterness  by  what  they  say 
or  do.  They  hurt  themselves  more  than  they  do  me 
when  they  set  about  to  ruin  me.  Some  of  these  enemies 
have  influenced  you  against  me.  Be  frank  with  me,  dear 
Bettina." 

"It  is  not  that,  Mr.  Canterbury,  though  I've  heard  you 
severely  criticised — your  motives  impugned;  neverthe- 
less I  have  confidence  in  you.  I  have  interest  in  your 
future,  in  your  career.  Whatever  you  do  in  Congress,  or 
whatever  is  said  about  your  course,  I  shall  know  you  do 
it  because  you  believe  it's  right."  Bettina  spoke  sol- 
emnly. Her  manner  revealed  her  sincerity. 

"God  bless  you  for  saying  just  that.  It  lifts  a  weight 
from  my  mind,  gives  me  new  courage.  Now,  come  what 
may,  I  shall  not  despair,  for  I  shall  recall  your  comfort- 
ing assurance."  Geoffrey  lifted  her  fingers  to  his  lips. 
"Come,  then,  say  there's  nothing  to  stand  between  us, 
that  is,  nothing  that  cannot  be  brushed  aside — the  way 
is  clear  for  me  to  try  to  win  your  heart." 

"No,  dear  friend,  it's  this  way.  You  and  I  are  too  far 
apart  in  our  way  of  thinking — in  our  manner  of  looking 
at  fundamental  things — in  our  attitudes  toward  public 
life,  to  pull  together — and  marriage  is  a  serious  business." 

Geoffrey  smiled  indulgently  as  he  looked  into  the  lam- 
bent depths  of  her  eyes.  "And  is  that  all  that  disturbs 
you?  Whyr Bettina  dear,"  and  he  drew  her  toward  him, 
"don't  you  know  that  difference  in  temperament  is  what 


THE    STANDPATTER  113 

makes  the  happy  marriage  ?  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should 
ever  interfere  with  your  freedom  of  thought.  I  respect 
and  honor  you  for  your  convictions,  for  your  nobility  of 
character.  Your  attitude  to  the  world,  to  society,  is  the 
most  beautiful  thing  I  have  ever  seen.  It  would  be  a 
joy  to  help  you  in  everything  you  undertook.  Your 
counsel  would  be  an  inspiration — a  coronation  to  me." 

"But  you  know  I'm  a  rock-ribbed  radical;  can  never 
be  anything  else.  I'm  radical  by  nature.  You're  con- 
servative to  the  tips  of  your  fingers — I  almost  said  a 
tory;  I  dare  say  the  difference  comes  down  from  revo- 
lutionary days,  from  away  back  in  our  ancestry.  At  any 
rate,  the  chasm  is  there  and  it's  real.  The  difference 
is  in  the  blood.  Nobody's  responsible  for  it,  I  suppose; 
but  from  whatever  source  it  springs,  it  makes  you  and 
me  look  at  things  very  differently." 

"We  can  afford  to  ignore  all  that — call  it  evidence 
irrelevant,  incompetent  and  immaterial,  as  we  lawyers 
say." 

"You've  a  lawyer's  gift  for  pleading." 

"I  never  pleaded  a  cause  half  so  dear.  Having  your 
confidence — you've  granted  me  that  much — I'll  try  to 
be  content — content  till  you  can  give  me  more.  And 
now — may  I  write  to  you?" 

"Just  as  soon  and  as  often  as  you  choose." 

"Thank  you.  I  herewith  appoint  you  my  confidential 
adviser.  That  means  frequent  letters  from  you.  I 
shall  depend  upon  them,  look  to  you  for  counsel.  Bet- 
tina,  I'm  almost  happy." 

"Your  confidential  adviser,  and  yet  you  haven't  told 
me  anything  about  your  plans  and  prospects." 

"I'll  tell  you  gladly.  Something  great  has  happened. 
I've  been  holding  it  as  a  surprise  for  you.  It  was  a  sur- 
prise to  me."  Taking  a  package  of  letters  from  an  inner 
coat  pocket,  he  fumbled  through  it  and,  selecting  a  tele- 
gram, handed  it  to  her.  It  read  thus : 

Honorable  Geoffrey  Canterbury, 

Berendo,  California. 

Practically   certain   chairmanship    goes    to    Cali- 
fornia.   Congratulations.  G.  F.  M. 


114  THE    STANDPATTER 

Bettina  was  momentarily  startled.  Here  was  a  par- 
tial confirmation  of  Cravath's  story — at  least,  confirma- 
tion of  a  part  of  it.  Mr.  Canterbury  was  to  have  the 
chairmanship  of  an  important  committee.  Well,  he  was 
worthy  of  it,  she  told  herself.  He  had  earned  it  hon- 
orably. 

Meantime  Geoffrey  scanned  her  face  closely,  eager  to 
see  the  look  of  pleasure  leap  into  those  expressive  eyes — 
to  hear  her  exclamation  of  surprise,  sure  to  be  followed 
by  a  shower  of  congratulations. 

He  had  longed  to  tell  her  on  the  day  of  their  talk  in 
the  garden  of  his  great  expectations  for  the  forthcoming 
session;  but,  by  the  merest  chance  he  had  not  done  so, 
the  way  had  not  opened  up  as  he  had  wished ;  now  he 
was  thankful  that  it  had  not,  that  the  good  news  was 
reserved  for  the  hour  that  brought  them  into  closer 
comradeship. 

Bettina  handed  the  bit  of  yellow  paper  back  to  him — 
a  smile  upon  her  lips,  but  he  listened  in  vain  for  her 
comment.  Her  silence  was  enigmatical ;  he  could  only 
believe  that  she  had  not  measured  fully  the  importance 
of  such  an  appointment — an  appointment  that  would  be 
seized  upon  by  news-gatherers  as  soon  as  it  was  made 
public  and  sent  speeding  by  wire  to  the  remotest  corners 
of  the  republic;  that  would  be  read,  commented  on  by 
the  press  and  by  people  everywhere. 

"The  committee  referred  to  is  the  Judiciary,"  he  said. 
"I'm  naturally  set  up  by  such  a  rich  plum  falling  into 
my  lap." 

"But  how  did  it  come  to  fall?  Who  shook  the  plum- 
tree?  Those  things  do  not  come  unsolicited,  do  they?" 
She  asked  the  questions  eagerly. 

"Not  usually.  It's  a  common  saying  that  one's  got  to 
have  a  'pull'  to  get  even  his  dues  down  at  Washington." 

"That's  interesting.  Did  our  member  from  Berendo 
have  a  strong  pull  that  brought  him  so  fine  a  plum  ?" 

"If  he  did  it  was  without  his  knowledge.  It  seems, 
however,  that  some  of  the  more  influential  men,  par- 
ticularly of  the  Senate,  approved  of  his  course  in  certain 
legislation,  knew  of  his  professional  standing,  thought 
he  could  make  a  fairly  good  speech,  liked  what  they  were 
kind  enough  to  call  his  business-like  methods,  believed 


THE    STANDPATTER  115 

they  could  depend  on  his  level-headedness — and  for  these 
reasons  determined  to  ask  for  his  appointment  at  the 
head  of  this  committee — much  to  the  surprise  of  said 
member  from  California,  who  had  not  dreamed  of  such 
a  promotion  at  this  time.  That  is  all  the  'pull'  this  mem- 
ber knows  anything  about." 

The  explanation  was  so  satisfactory  withal  that  Bet- 
tina  fairly  radiated  pleasure.  She  bubbled  over  with  en- 
thusiasm. "Advancement  is  based  on  merit,  after  all," 
she  said — "and  I  had  no  idea  of  such  a  thing." 

"I  wouldn't  like  to  say  that  it's  exactly  based  on 
merit" — Geoffrey  laughed  as  he  spoke,  "but  in  this  case 
the  right  men,  that  is,  the  men  who  have  influence,  who 
have  leadership,  who  do  things — approved  of  me  for 
some  reason,  mainly  because  of  my  professional  success, 
I  think;  hence  recommend  my  appointment.  Now  it's 
up  to  me  to  'make  good' — to  measure  up  to  their  ex- 
pectations." 

"I'm  sure  you'll  do  it;  and,  what's  more,  you'll  meas- 
ure up  to  the  expectations  of  your  constituents,  which  is 
even  more  necessary.  You'll  not  forget  our  citrus  inter- 
ests. I  can  help  you  out  there  by  watching  conditions 
at  this  end  of  the  line,  where  there's  so  much  at  stake." 

"We'll  work  together — and  it  will  mean  a  better  state 
of  things  for  Southern  California,"  and  Geoffrey  rose. 
The  thought  surged  through  his  mind  that  he  would  like 
nothing  in  the  world  quite  so  well  as  to  be  able  to  work 
in  harmony  with  this  dear  girl,  whose  sympathies  were 
so  clearly  on  the  side  of  the  people ;  and  yet  he  believed 
that  many  of  her  theories  could  not  be  carried  out  with- 
out injury  to  the  very  people  she  desired  to  serve. 


116  THE    STANDPATTER 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  proposition  came  from  Bettina.  Dinner  should  be 
delayed  an  hour  and  the  entire  party  motor  to  the  little 
station  of  Berendo  over  on  the  Short  Line,  and  give  fit- 
ting farewell  to  the  Canterburys,  mother  and  son,  who 
were  to  take  the  east-bound  limited  there  at  six. 

"It  would  be  a  surprise,"  she  said — all  the  more  inter- 
esting for  that  reason.  It  had  not  occurred  to  her  to  do 
anything  of  the  kind  until  after  Geoffrey's  farewell 
call  at  the  Lodge,  he  having  failed  to  see  the  men  of  the 
party. 

She  would  like,  with  their  help,  to  make  the  little  ex- 
cursion something  of  an  event,  too,  if  she  could;  some- 
thing that  would  give  the  travelers  pleasant  thought  to 
the  end  of  their  journey. 

They  were  gathered  on  the  piazza  now,  the  girls  with 
their  embroidery,  the  young  men  telling  stories  and  giv- 
ing spirited  accounts  of  their  adventures  in  mountain- 
climbing,  at  home  and  abroad. 

Bettina  had  spoken  with  her  usual  enthusiasm.  She 
was  never  quite  herself  if  not  intent  upon  devising  some 
pleasant  diversion  for  those  about  her — and  with  her  it 
was  gesagt,  gethan. 

Having  stated  her  proposition,  Bettina,  with  mock 
gravity,  declared  the  subject  open  to  discussion. 

Cravath  gained  instant  recognition  from  the  "chair." 
He  desired,  he  said,  with  simulated  seriousness,  to  be- 
speak for  the  occasion,  which  he  foresaw  would  be  one 
of  both  social  and  political  significance  of  really  national 
importance — the  services  of  the  famous  Aztec  Lodge 
Symphony  Orchestra,  led  by  that  prince  of  musicians, 
Randall  Trowbridge.  If  he  might  be  permitted,  he 
would  suggest  favorite  national  airs  as  the  train  pulled 
out. 

A  round  of  applause  greeted  Trowbridge  as  he  blush- 
ingly  bowed  his  acknowledgements.  He  and  his  asso- 
c':tes — the  college  men  of  the  ranch — had  first  won  pop- 
ularity through  the  music  they  had  been  providing  for 
the  evening  entertainment  after  their  ^*?rk  was  over  for 
the  day,  Miss  Daggett  presiding  at  the  piano. 


THE    STANDPATTER  111 

Bettina  had  begged  both  Millbank  and  his  assistants 
to  give  to  the  house,  while  her  guests  remained,  every 
moment  that  they  could  spare  from  pressing  duties  out- 
side. Millbank  shrugged  his  shoulders  nonchalantly  by 
way  of  reply,  but  the  younger  men  accepted  with  assur- 
ances of  appreciation,  and  thereby  became  her  valuable 
allies. 

"I  say,  let's  decorate  our  machines  with  Old  Glory — 
Come,  Marcia,  that's  our  stunt." — Philip  Ingalls  seized 
Miss  Duffield's  hand  as  he  spoke,  whereupon  that  young 
lady  obediently  thrust  her  work  into  the  dainty  bag  that 
hung  from  her  */rist  and,  tossing  it  into  a  hammock,  the 
two  scurried  away  together,  Bettina  smiling  her  ap- 
proval. 

"Now  for  my  great  idea." 

"Hear,  hear" — in  Ward  Percival's  deep  voice — "the 
lady  of  the  manor  house  speaks ;  let  all  attend." 

"I  propose  a  surprise-box — one  for  each  of  the  trav- 
ellers— a  box  containing  a  gift  simple  or  otherwise,  as 
you  may  wish  to  make  it,  for  every  day  of  the  journey — 
the  gifts  to  be  done  up  elaborately,  each  labeled  for  open- 
ing on  a  specific  day.  It's  great  fun  if  we  can  hit  on 
things  sufficiently  unique.  A  little  sense  of  humor  and 
imagination  will  help  out.  You'll  all  have  to  help  me  on 
this.  Put  on  your  thinking  caps,  girls." 

Soon  the  girls  were  hard  at  work  making  up  the  two 
boxes.  Madame  Canterbury's  box,  it  was  decided,  should 
be  filled  with  all  kinds  of  dainty  packages  containing  per- 
sonal gifts — such  as  bon-bons,  a  quaint  vinaigrette,  an 
old-time  snuff-box,  a  bit  of  jade  cut  into  a  bottle,  a  tiny 
landscape  painting  on  the  inside — innumerable  articles 
of  vertu  brought  from  Bettina's  family  chests  and  draw- 
ers ;  an  unfailing  storehouse ;  while  the  effort  was  to  make 
Mr.  Canterbury's  "surprises"  altogether  comical — every- 
thing from  a  jack-in-the-box  to  a  pedometer  "warranted 
if  faithfully  used  to  restore  the  wearer  to  perfect  health." 

It  was  a  merry  company  that  filled  the  big  flower  and 
flag-bedecked  automobiles. 

"What's  the  matter  with  taking  along  the  kiddies?" 
called  out' Ward  Percival. 

"To  be  sure,"  echoed  Cravath,  always  ready  to  enter 
either  plea  or  protest  in  behalf  of  the  little  folks. 


118  THE    STANDPATTER 

Paul  and  Jane  stood  nearby,  apparently  too  stunned  at 
the  thought  of  being  left  out  of  the  fun  to  utter  a  syl- 
lable. 

It  was  Frau  Wildenow  who  now  interposed.  Her 
ideas,  brought  with  her  from  the  "Vaterland,"  permitted 
little  leniency  where  children  were  concerned.  She,  at 
least,  often  had  been  heard  to  assert  as  much.  However, 
friends  of  the  family  laughingly  said  that,  after  all,  the 
little  German  woman  had  been  as  indulgent  as  any 
American  mother  could  be;  and  they  pointed  to  Bettina 
in  confirmation  of  their  assertions,  to  Bettina,  who  had 
never  been  thwarted  in  anything.  But,  being  a  German, 
the  "Little  Mother"  stood  with  firmness  against  undue 
excitement  for  the  "little  men  and  women"  under  her 
charge;  insisted  on  plenty  of  sleep,  at  stipulated  hours; 
saw  to  it  that  few  sweets  were  given  to  them,  and  only 
simple  and  nourishing  food;  above  all,  maintained  that 
some  of  the  pleasures  of  life  should  be  held  in  reserve 
for  them  as  "grown-ups" ;  that  they  should  not  be  per- 
mitted, as  are  so  many  children,  to  become  blase  at  the 
tender  age  of  ten.  "Little  Paul  and  Jane  must  have  their 
suppers.  Come,  children;  some  of  the  beautiful  milk 
from  our  own  good  bossy,  and  then  Ozawa  shall  put  you 
to  bed,"  she  spoke  with  some  degree  of  firmness. 

Little  Jane  turned  away  with  quivering  lips,  while 
Paul  boldly  held  his  ground,  inclined  to  waiting. 

"Do  you  want  to  go  so  very  much,  Jane?"  Bettina 
began  to  weaken.  Jane's  face  changed  instantly.  Hope 
sprang  within  her. 

"Eth,  cauthe  Uncle  Cantberry  '11  grieve  tho  for  me 
when  he'th  gone.  I  want  to  kith  him  good-bye." 

"Jane  is  unanswerable  when  it  comes  to  stating  her 
case."  Cravath's  eyes  twinkled.  "Jane,  you  little  tad, 
come  over  here  this  minute  and  tell  your  Uncle  Cravath 
why  you  want  to  kiss  Canterbury;  I'm  raging  with 
jealousy." 

"Juth  cauthe."    Jane  hung  her  head. 

"A  woman's  reason,  upon  my  word.  Do  you  love  that 
man  Canterbury,  Jane?  Be  careful,  on  your  honor,  now?" 

"Yeth,"  she  lisped. 

"Why  do  you  love  him  better  than  the  rest  of  us — 
better  than  Ward  or  Philip,  here?" 


THE    STANDPATTER  119 

"Cauthe  Mith  Bettina  doeth." 

A  shout  went  up  at  this.  Jane  had  won  the  day— the 
twins  their  trip  to  Berendo. 

It  was  half  an  hour  before  train  time  when  the  big 
motor  cars  pulled  up  at  the  little  flag  station  of  Berendo 
— Berendo,  pitiably  poor  in  the  number  of  inhabitants; 
rich  in  groves  of  orange  and  of  olive ;  rich,  too,  in  charm 
of  environment,  in  beauty  of  scenery,  scenery  typically 
Californian. 

The  drive  to  the  station — less  than  a  score  of  miles — 
was  through  these  same  orange  groves — lemon,  too; 
their  beauty  thrown  open  to  the  world  in  generous  fash- 
ion, or  hedged  by  fence  of  wire,  scarcely  more  than  a 
trellis  upon  which  to  hang  luxuriant,  clinging  roses,  pink 
and  white,  white  and  pink,  a  sweetly  fragrant  procession. 

Bettina  directed  the  way  they  should  take  from  a  seat 
in  the  front  car ;  Cravath  at  her  side,  alert  and  attentive. 
His  thoughtfulness  for  all,  great  and  small  alike,  had 
won  him  friends.  Such  kindness  as  he  had  showered 
upon  Bettina  it  is  hardly  in  the  heart  of  woman  to  resist, 
much  less  decline. 

"This  week  at  the  Lodge  has  been  heavenly."  Cra- 
vath's  voice  was  serious,  his  face  even  more  so.  "Never 
have  days  passed  so  swiftly,  so  happily — and — to-morrow — 
I  dread  to  think  of  it — to-morrow — I  go  back  to  work." 

"Hasn't  it  been  jolly,  though?  It  will  be  a  pleasant 
memory  for  all  of  us,  I  hope.  Then  you'll  all  come  again 
before  many  months,  too,  the  same  old  crowd  with  some 
brand-new  stunts.  We  might  make  the  college  carnival 
an  annual  event — when  Mr.  Canterbury's  at  home."  Bet- 
tina spoke  gaily. 

"They  say  there's  a  possibility  that  he'll  be  perma- 
nently at  home,  retired  by  an  ungrateful  public,  you 
know." 

"I  hardly  think  so.  But,  as  I  told  you  before,  Mr.  Can- 
terbury will  hold  to  his  principles  even  if  it  unseats  him 
—he's  just  that  kind  of  a  man." 

"You  think  then  a  man  can  honestly  stand  pat?" 

"Think  it;  why,  I  know  it.  See  the  older  men  of  the 
country — -'men  upwards  of  fifty.  It  is  they  who  stand 
pat,  and  there's  no  impeaching  their  honesty.  Uncle 
Haredale  says  a  man  never  changes  the  cut  of  his  collar 


120  THE    STANDPATTER 

after  he's  forty,  and  he  might  as  well  add — the  style  of 
his  politics." 

"Come  to  think  of  it,  our  progressive  leaders  are  young 
men,  take  them  all  in  all." 

"Certainly  they  are.  Now,  look  over  the  elderly  men 
of  your  acquaintance — retired  lawyers,  school  men, 
clergymen,  judges,  men  sitting  quietly  at  their  fireside — 
on  their  porches — standpatters  every  one.  Often  there's 
a  divided  family — the  father  reactionary — the  sons  pro- 
gressive. In  all  my  acquaintance  there's  but  one  old  man 
who  is  strongly  progressive — a  man  retired  from  the 
United  States  circuit  bench  after  forty  years  of  honor- 
able service — one  of  the  able  men  of  this  country — I'm 
proud  to  know  him — no  petrifaction  in  the  gray  matter 
of  his  brain.  He  seems  out  of  place  in  the  progressive 
ranks." 

"Then  our  friend  Canterbury  belongs  in  your  mind 
with  the  back  numbers?" 

"I  didn't  say  just  that.  He  is  one  of  the  class  that 
don't  easily  change.  He's  bound  by  the  edicts  of  an 
exacting  profession — stands  like  adamant  for  its  stand- 
ards. I  confess  I  never  expect  to  see  him  swerve  much 
from  his  present  position."  , 

"Canterbury's  a  blamed  lucky  dog  to  win  your  cham- 
pionship, I'll  say  that  much.  Wish  I  had  an  advocate 
half  as  able  as  you  and — altogether  as  charming."  Cra- 
vath  gave  his  companion  a  look  of  admiration. 

"No  doubt  you  have  many  such  advocates.  I've  no- 
ticed people  get  about  what  they  deserve  in  this  world." 

"Do  you  think  so?  You  are  an  optimist,  sure  enough. 
Now  in  politics,  where  I've  planted  my  standards,  it 
hasn't  occurred  to  me  that  men  get  their  deserts — not 
to  any  marked  extent.  Men  have  sacrificed  everything 
for  country  or  for  party  and,  in  spite  of  that,  have  gone 
to  their  graves  disappointed." 

"Disappointed  but  not  dishonored — defeat  may  be  the 
cornerstone  of  victory." 

Cravath  and  Bettina  were  still  discussing  men  in.  public 
life  who  had  risen  or  fallen ;  and  discussing  the  causes 
which  had  contributed  to  their  triumph  or  their  down- 
fall, when  the  party  reached  Berendo. 


THE    STANDPATTER  121 

Cravath  had  endeavored  at  different  times  to  turn  the 
conversation  into  a  more  intimate,  a  more  personal  chan- 
nel, but  without  success.  It  was  disappointing.  This 
was  his  last  evening  at  the  Lodge.  This  eveni-ng  ought 
to  decide  his  future — he  had  meant  that  it  should,  and 
determined  that  he  would,  at  least,  ascertain  Bettina's 
attitude  toward  him;  in  this  he  had  thus  far  failed.  Bet- 
tina  had  been  kind,  he  told  himself,  but  then  she  was 
uniformly  kind  and  considerate.  His  fear — a  fear  that 
paralyzed  him  at  times — was  that  there  was  an  under- 
standing between  her  and  Geoffrey  Canterbury.  He  un- 
derstood from  Philip  that  the  two  had  spent  much  of  the 
afternoon  together.  It  did  not  look  favorable  to  him — 
this  sudden  determination  of  Bettina  to  see  the  Canter- 
burys  again  at  the  train.  He  resolved  to  be  wary — to 
know  for  a  certainty  how  the  land  lay  before  he  would 
commit  himself,  and  then  make  the  most  of  Canterbury's 
absence. 

"But  here  come  our  friends.  Hurrah!"  It  was  Dr. 
Perkins  who  spied  the  familiar  Victoria  some  distance 
down  the  highway;  just  in  time  for  a  welcoming  number 
by  the  improvised  orchestra — a  royal  "Hail  to  the  Chief," 
the  notes  rich,  full  and  vibrant;  with  a  round  of  cheers 
at  the  end  just  as  Rupert  Yenowine  drew  up  the  spirited 
grays  alongside  the  platform. 

Geoffrey,  waving  his  hat,  leaped  from  the  carriage, 
pleasure  and  surprise  written  in  his  handsome  face,  his 
gray  eyes  shining  beneath  their  shaggy  brows;  when, 
presto !  he  was  seized  bodily  and  borne  aloft  to  the  plat- 
form— a  speech  demanded. 

For  once  speech  almost  failed  the  distinguished  mem- 
ber from  Berendo. 

He  smilingly  declared  that  he  had  looked  for  some- 
thing altogether  more  original  from  this  crowd  than  a 
demand  for  a  speech.  Speechmaking  was  too  common- 
place; besides,  there  were  things  too  beautiful  to  talk 
about — moments  which  aroused  emotions  delicate  and 
sacred — and  this  tribute  to  his  mother  and  himself — 
chiefly  to  her,  he  was  persuaded — made  this  such  a  time. 

As  Geoffrey  left  the  platform  he  encountered  little 
Jane  at  his  feet — Jane  bearing  a  package  fully  as  large 
as  herself. 


122  THE    STANDPATTER 

"Ith  a  thurprithe  box  'en  ith  for  you,  Uncle  Cantby." 

"A  surprise-box  for  me  ?  Well,  I'm  surprised ;  no  ques- 
tion about  that.  But  come  up  here  and  tell  me  about 
this  wonderful  box." 

"Ith  for  you,  cauth  Mith  Betty  thaid  tho — 'en  I  want 
to  kith  you  good-bye  cauth  I  love  you." 

''Tell  him  why  you  love  him,  Jane — "  Philip  called  to 
her,  but  the  admonition  was  lost;  for,  with  her  arms 
around  his  neck,  Jane  was  bestowing  many  kisses. 

Meantime  Paul  had  given  Mrs.  Canterbury  the  box 
intended  for  her,  and  the  good  lady  had  made  her  ac- 
knowledgments to  Bettina. 

"Cravath !     Cravath !"  was  now  the  call. 

"No  speech,  thank  you,"  he  said  as  he  arose.  "I  don't 
mind  telling  you  a  little  story  of  the  last  congressional 
campaign.  I  was  waiting  at  a  little  wayside  station  not 
unlike  this,  and  two  working  men,  busy  at  some  repairs, 
were  talking. 

'  'Geoffrey  Canterbury,  he's  the  biggest  man  that  ever 
lived,'  said  one. 

"  'Oh,  gee,'  said  the  other,  'he  not  greater  as  George 
Washington.' 

f  'Yes,  he  lot  bigger  as  George  Washington.' 

"  'Well,  he  not  as  big  a  man  as  Abraham  Lincoln,  you 
bet  he  isn't.' 

"  'Oh,  fade  away ;  he  bigger  man  as  Lincoln,'  said  the 
other  indignantly. 

"  'Well,  but  there's  Roosevelt — Canterbury  he  not  as 
big  a  man  as  Roosevelt,  and  you  know  it.' 

"  'Yes,  he  is — he  bigger  as  Roosevelt/ 

"  'You  say  he  biggest  man  ever  lived  in  this  world?' 
'  'You  bet  I  do.' 

"  'Pshaw,  now ;  you're  a  mutt — he's  not  as  big  a  man 
as  the  Prophet  Moses/ 

"  'Oh,  well — you  see  Geoffrey  Canterbury,  he  some 
young  yet/  " 

With  the  conclusion  of  Cravath's  anecdote,  darkness 
was  closing  in,  the  distant  rumble  of  the  oncoming  train 
could  be  distinctly  heard,  its  gleaming  lights  discerned. 
The  great  moment  had  come — the  last  good-byes  were 
being  said. 


THE    STANDPATTER  123 

Geoffrey  and  Bettina  stood  apart  from  the  others.  "No 
one  else  in  all  the  world  could  have  given  us  so  beautiful 
a  farewell,"  Geoffrey  said  to  her,  his  voice  tremulous 
with  emotion.  "I  see  you  in  it  all.  How  I  wish  I  might 
tell  you  all  I  feel." 

"It  has  been  a  pleasure  to  all  of  us,"  she  said;  "and 
now,  auf  wiedersehen." 


124  THE    STANDPATTER 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A  week  had  passed  since  Geoffrey's  departure  and  the 
breaking-up  of  Bettina's  first  house-party  at  Aztec 
Lodge.  All  agreed  that  there  never  had  been  such  a 
party,  never  so  much  enjoyment  crowded  into  an  equal 
length  of  time.  The  happy,  care-free  days,  each  in  its 
turn,  had  revealed  new  pleasures ;  disclosed  undiscovered 
depths  to  some  of  the  old  pleasures. 

It  was  as  if  the  visitors  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  new 
and  different  life;  life  fresh,  sweet  and  invigorating  in 
this  radiant  southern  sunshine;  only  a  glimpse,  to  be 
sure,  but  still  a  revelation  for  life  close  to  nature's  heart 
in  this  semi-tropical  region  they  recognized  as  the  real 
thing — the  life  worth  living. 

They  no  longer  criticised  Bettina;  knew  that  she  had 
chosen  well — that  to  do  something  definite  is  fine — more 
praiseworthy  by  far  than  to  look  on  and  talk,  however 
eloquently,  about  what  others  do,  that  work  of  some  sort 
was  the  open  sesame  to  happiness ;  work  and  interest  in 
things  human. 

"Get  work,  get  work ;  but  be  sure  that  what  you  work 
to  get  be  better  than  what  you  get  to  work." 

The  morning  mail — there  was  now  a  daily  delivery  at 
the  Lodge — had  brought  Bettina  a  shower  of  letters.  One 
she  recognized  after  a  moment's  deliberation  as  coming 
from  Geoffrey  Canterbury;  with  a  smile  on  her  face  she 
tucked  it  snugly  in  a  fold  of  her  morning  gown  for  an 
undisturbed  reading  later  in  the  day ;  another  she  opened 
at  once,  having  failed  to  discover  from  whom  it  came 
by  her  scrutiny  of  the  large,  irregular  writing. 

"Oh,  Marcia,"  she  called  a  moment  later.  "Some  one's 
coming — will  be  here  for  luncheon.  Guess." 

"Rich  man,  poor  man,  beggar  man,  thief?" 

"Lawyer,  doctor,  editor-in-chief?" 

"As  to  riches,  fair  to  middling,  I  should  say — good- 
looking,  clever;  and  it  isn't  Phil,  either." 

"It's  Shirley  Cravath,  of  course." 

"Precisely,  but  whence  this  gift  of  divination,  fair 
maid?" 


THE    STANDPATTER  125 

"No  divination — process  purely  mathematical.  You've 
heard  of  putting  two  and  two  together?" 

"Yes ;  I  remember,  too,  the  old  story  of  'two  times  two 
are  five — two  times  two  are  five'  and  its  direful  conse- 
quence. Be  careful  about  your  calculations,  my  dear." 

"Oh,  as  to  calculations,  I'm  anything  but  clever,  I  ad- 
mit. In  fact,  I  belong  with  last  year's  assemblyman  at 
Sacramento.  You  remember  Prexy  went  over  to  do  a 
little  lobbying  for  the  new  building — a  one-tenth  mill  tax 
was  what  he  urged  upon  the  committee  on  appropria- 
tions, and  the  story  goes  that  one  of  the  members  made 
a  speech  favoring  rigid  retrenchment — saying  he  could, 
he  believed,  with  the  approval  of  his  constituency  and 
the  consent  of  his  conscience,  stand  for  a  one-fifth  mill 
tax,  but  blamed  if  he  could  look  his  people  in  the  face 
and  endorse  the  one-tenth  mill." 

"It's  a  good  story;  but  I  doubt  if  any  California  rep- 
resentative is  quite  equal  to  it.  But  do  you  realize  that 
our  man  Cravath  may  arrive  any  minute?" 

"I  do,  and  am  wise  to  the  fact  also  that  he's  bent  on 
taking  advantage  of  somebody  else's — or  should  I  say 
somebody's  else — absence.  I  call  that  a  scurvy  trick." 

"It's  nothing  but  a  friendly  visit.  Why  your  hostility 
toward  Cravath? — your  championship  of  Mr.  Canterbury? 
I  like  them  both,  only,  of  course,  in — not  exactly  the  same 
way.  Don't  forget  that  I'm  still  indulging  in  'maiden 
meditation,  fancy  free.'  " 

"But,  Betty,  men  can't  take  half-way  ground  with  you ; 
they've  got  to  take  the  whole  loaf." 

"Don't  mix  your  metaphors,  honey.  You're  putting 
me  in  a  class  by  myself,  too — which  is — well,  reprehen- 
sible, to  say  the.  least." 

"I've  told  you  more  than  once  that  Geoffrey  Canter- 
bury worships  you.  Great  heavens,  if  I  had  all  your 
suitors,  I'd  be  familiar  with  the  symptoms." 

"It's  unnecessary.  I've  a  friend  who  diagnoses  cases 
for  me." 

"Correctly,  too." 

"Over  sanguine  in  some  instances,  I've  noticed." 

"Not  in  tnis  particular  case.  It's  serious  when  a  man 
of  Canterbury's  type  falls  in  love.  When  he  loses  his 
heart,  well,  he — loses  heart." 


126  THE    STANDPATTER 

"Mr.  Canterbury  doesn't  impress  me  as  a  man  without 
hope.  I  thought  he  seemed  reasonably  cheerful — cer- 
tainly not  despondent — when  he  left  us  the  other  even- 
ing." 

"No,  because  he  naturally  has  hopes.  Most  girls 
would  jump  at  a  man  of  his  position.  I  would  if — " 

Bettina  laughed  but  her  cheeks  were  aflame.  "You 
forget  that,  as  a  woman  with  a  college  training  behind 
me  and  the  whole  world  as  a  working  laboratory  before 
me,  I'm  entitled  to  a  little  time  in  which  to  experiment. 
There  are  plans  that  are  dear  to  me,  plans  barely  out- 
lined as  yet — still  in  embryo — and  I  say  it  would  be 
cowardly  to  abandon  them  and  fly  away  to  matrimony — 
universal  refuge  of  womankind — now,  wouldn't  it?" 

"I've  never  understood  that  marriage  puts  an  end  to 
everything ;  not  if  you  marry  the  right  sort." 

"And  a  right  sort  means  a  basis  of  common  sympathy 
— so  that  two  people  can  work  together.  I  confess  I 
can  imagine  nothing  better  than  for  two  who  adore  each 
other  carrying  out  big  plans  together.  It  would  be 
heavenly." 

Ozawa  appeared  at  this  moment  announcing  Mr.  Shirley 
Cravath,  the  gentleman  following  close  on  his  heels. 


THE    STANDPATTER  127 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Cravath's  coming  was  the  signal  for  unusual  family 
gayety.  There  was  about  the  man  a  breezy  freshness, 
an  irresistible  mastery  of  situations  that  led  everything, 
for  the  time  being,  to  center  in  him.  He  was  so  entirely 
at  home  at  Aztec  Lodge  that  a  stranger  looking  in  upon 
them  might  readily  have  gained  the  impression  that  he 
was  the  host,  the  others  his  guests. 

After  luncheon  Bettina  slipped  away  to  her  own 
room,  leaving  Marcia  and  Crayath  chatting  merrily  in 
the  library. 

She  broke  the  seal  of  Geoffrey's  letter  with  an  eager 
hand,  a  heightened  color : 

Washington,  D.  C. 

November  30,  19— 
Dear  Miss  Brigham : 

You  will  know  long  before  this  reaches  you  that  the 
appointment  to  the  much  prized  chairmanship  of  the 
Judiciary  committee  came  to  me. 

The  announcement  created  a  sensation  here;  you  will 
be  surprised  when  I  tell  you  the  sensation  was  mainly 
due  to  my  youth;  think  of  that,  oh,  maiden  of  the  tender 
twenties,  and  I  thirty-eight!  that  is,  if  I'm  to  believe  the 
unsupported  record  of  my  birth,  though  I  secretly  hope 
— as  Mark  Twain  remarked  when  shown  the  premature 
announcement  of  his  own  death — that  the  story  has  been 
"greatly  exaggerated." 

And  now,  as  far  as  the  House  is  concerned,  I  find 
myself  in  the  position  of  Alexander  the  Great,  when  he 
wept  because  he  could  find  no  more  worlds  to  conquer. 

How  I  would  like  to  tell  you  everything  about  the  ap- 
pointment! It  came  through  Senator  Gibbs — and,  as  I 
told  you  before,  was  unsolicited. 

"I  wish  I  could  create  for  you  likewise  a  mental  pic- 
ture of  the  old  senator,  the  noblest  Roman  of  them  all. 
He's  mighty  interesting.  I'll  confess  right  here,  how- 
ever, that  he  enjoys  the  unenviable  distinction  of  being 
the  homeliest  man  in  the  Senate — using  the  word,  not  in 
its  polite,  generic  sense,  but  as  we  Americans  choose  to 


128  THE    STANDPATTER 

employ  it,  to  gloss  over  a  bad  situation.  The  English- 
man would  say,  bluntly  and  unblushingly  :  "He's  beastly 
ugly,  don't  you  know,"  and  be  done  with  it. 

In  the  first  place,  he  has  an  eagle's  beak  of  brilliant 
hue,  where  there  should  be  a  genteel  nose  of  modest  pro- 
portions —  all  the  more  unfortunate,  since  the  stranger  is 
ready  to  swear  by  all  that's  good  and  great  that  the 
senator  enjoys  a  too  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  re- 
sources of  the  Senate  buffet;  unhappily  the  inference  is 
supported  by  a  big,  unwieldy  body  —  great,  fat  and  logy. 
What  a  shock  it  must  be  every  time  he  finds  himself  in 
front  of  a  full-length  mirror! 

But  his  lack  of  good  looks  is  forgotten  when  you  come 
to  know  the  man.  (I  look  forward  to  the  pleasure  of 
presenting  you  to  him  at  no  distant  day.)  He  seems  to 
be  tolerant,  temperate,  kind. 

A  half  hour's  talk  with  him  convinces  one  that  there's 
such  a  thing  as  an  aristocracy  of  brains  and  that  in  its 
domain  he's  a  veritable  ruler. 

The  reception  the  senator  gave  me  was  most  cordial. 
I  confess  it  was  with  some  misgivings  I  sent  my  secre- 
tary to  his  committee  room  with  my  card  and  the  letter 
of  introduction  on  the  day  of  my  arrival  —  was  naturally 
impatient  to  get  in  touch  with  the  man  who  held  my 
destiny  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 

Back  came  my  man  with  the  request  that  I  should 
come  over  immediately.  The  senator  had  been  trying 
to  get  a  line  on  me. 

I  didn't  permit  any  grass  to  grow  beneath  my  feet. 

There  were  several  awaiting  interviews  when  I  en- 
tered. "Take  a  chair,"  he  said.  Just  then  his  man  whis- 
pered :  "It's  the  gentleman  from  California."  He  jumped 
up.  "Take  two  chairs,"  he  said,  as  he  extended  his  hand. 

Then  he  repeated  —  "from  California,  where  Insurgency 
runs  riot?" 

"Nevertheless,  I'm  glad  to  come  from  that  state,"  I 
replied. 

"Yes,  yes,  to  be  sure  ;  and,  as  the  man  said  about  Kan- 
sas, 'the  more  intelligent  you  are  the  quicker  you'll 
come.'  " 

"But  I've  observed  the  state  has  its  attraction  for 
you  easterners,"  I  retorted. 


THE    STANDPATTER  129 

"Oh,  I'll  admit  it — unlike  ancient  Gaul,  this  country  is 
divided  into  two  parts — the  states  and  California,"  and 
he  laughed  at  his  own  little  joke. 

"California  and  the  states,"  I  corrected. 

We  had  some  further  chaffing  about  the  political  situ- 
ation in  California,  at  which  he,  as  a  rank  old  heretic 
from  New  England,  had  to  have  his  complacent  fling. 
He  is  positive  we  are  lacking  in  political  acumen;  and 
he  doubtless  suspects  us  of  a  shortage  in  culture;  but  I 
tell  him  he'd  like  us  better  if  he  knew  us  more  intimately. 

To  make  a  long  story  short,  he  told  me,  there  and  then, 
that  I  was  to  have  the  Judiciary  appointment — through 
the  Speaker  of  the  House,  of  course;  requested  me  to 
submit  for  consideration  a  list  of  members  with  whom  I 
could  affiliate  satisfactorily,  as  there  was  heavy  work 
before  us.  I  must  have  a  committee  that  would  pull  to- 
gether— no  friction — men  who  were  fair-minded,  dis- 
posed to  be  reasonable,  just  to  every  interest;  none  of 
the  demagogue  class,  of  the  howling,  freakish  variety,  he 
said.  As  membership  on  the  committee  usually  goes  by 
seniority,  this  surprised  me  a  little. 

I  must  say  I  was  well  satisfied  with  the  interview. 
You  would  have  been,  my  dear  Bettina,  had  you  heard 
it.  There  were  no  exactions  on  either  side;  no  pledges, 
no  disposition  to  interfere  with  liberty.  Everything  was 
open  and  above  board — the  appointment  to  be  made,  he 
assured  me,  on  fitness  alone. 

You  should  have  seen  the  evening  papers!  Did  they 
play  it  up?  Well,  I  should  remark — front  page,  double- 
leaded,  scare-head,  portrait-of-victim  story,  with  accom- 
panying editorial.  Morning  papers  green  with  envy — 
but  giving  it  good  space  notwithstanding  the  scoop.  I 
survive  to  tell  the  tale — survive  with  at  least  a  portion 
of  my  scalp  intact — but,  there's  California  still  to  hear 
from. 

We  are  staying  temporarily  at  the  Willard.  Are  mak- 
ing some  pleasant  acquaintances  and  may  decide  to  re- 
main here.  Mr.  Justice  Reynolds,  who  served  twenty 
years  on  the.  Federal  bench  and  retired  two  years  ago  at 
the  age  of  seventy,  lives  here.  I  have  had  several  walks 
with  him  to  and  from  the  Capitol.  He  has  an  attractive 
personality,  is  magnetic,  impresses  one  as  singularly  hon- 


130  THE    STANDPATTER 

est  and  upright,  as  well  as  possessing  commanding  abil- 
ity. I  have  been  surprised  at  some  of  his  comments 
about  the  courts.  He  speaks  freely  and  not  always  flat- 
teringly of  some  of  his  former  colleagues  of  the  bench. 
Because  of  your  great  interest  in  the  subject  I  have  made 
up  my  mind  to  quietly  investigate — and  I  am  making  the 
most  of  this  acquaintance.  A  remark  that  he  made  with 
ingenious  frankness — you  may  imagine  how  it  stirred 
me  up — was  that  "the  commercial  interests  of  this  coun- 
try have  control  of  our  courts  to  a  large  and  dangerous 
extent."  How  is  that  for  a  speech  from  a  retired  Federal 
judge?  Yet  he  speaks  with  apparently  no  bitterness. 

The  morning  following  my  appointment  we — mother 
and  I — received  dinner  cards  from  Senator  and  Miss 
Gibbs — his  daughter,  strange  to  say,  a  remarkably  pretty 
girl.  They  have  a  handsome  suite  at  the  Arlington.  The 
dinner,  if  you  please,  was  in  honor  of  the  newly  appointed 
chairman  of  the  Judiciary  committee ! 

You  would  smile  if  you  could  see  mother  these  days. 
She's  as  tickled  over  my  appointment  as  a  boy  who  has 
just  found  a  pocket-knife!  She  always  accused  me  of 
doing  more  to  push  the  other  fellow  than  myself.  She 
used  to  say  I  could  catch  rats  for  other  people  and 
couldn't  even  catch  mice  for  myself. 

The  dinner  proved  a  brilliant  affair — a  "function,"  I 
believe,  is  the  winged  word  the  society  reporters  employ 
to  describe  anything  so  smart — that  is,  if  it  is  given  in 
the  swell  set. 

There  were  two  senators  with  their  wives  and  a  mem- 
ber of  the  cabinet  and  his  daughter,  the  latter,  as  in  the 
case  of  Miss  Gibbs,  doing  the  social  honors  for  her  father. 
Senator  Gibbs  and  the  Secretary  are  both  widowers.  One 
of  the  judges  of  the  court  of  commerce  was  also  a  guest 
at  the  dinner.  The  citrus  fruit  hearing  will  come  before 
his  court. 

A  gentleman  from  the  Middle  West  who  was  among 
the  guests  told  a  story  at  the  expense  of  "Mr.  Secretary." 

It  was  some  years  ago,  when  his  daughter  was  a  wee 
bit  of  a  girl — about  like  our  little  Jane,  I  imagine — and 
the  family  were  at  morning  prayers.  They  lived  on  a 
farm  in  those  days.  Now  the  little  maid  had  several  big 
brothers  who  easily  wearjed  in  well-doing.  The  devotions 


THE    STANDPATTER  131 

becoming  tedious,  they  sought  to  while  away  the  time 
by  flinging  crab-apples  at  the  head  of  their  sister,  who 
knelt  next  to  her  father  at  the  family  altar.  It  proved 
a  dangerous  pastime — a  crab-apple,  swift  as  a  brain-ball 
— struck  the  paternal  head  and  ruffled  the  paternal 
temper. 

"What  the  devil  are  you  doing  over  there?"  came  the 
inquiry.  Receiving  no  reply,  the  stern  father  turned 
about  and  composedly  resumed  his  petitions. 

My  mother  has  made  several  unsuccessful  attempts 
to  write  you,  she  tells  me.  She  gets  about  so  far  along  in 
her  epistolary  effort — and  it's  something  of  an  effort  for 
her — when  a  caller  is  announced  or  a  friend  comes  to  take 
her  for  a  drive.  Meantime  I'll  risk  brushing  off  the 
dewy  freshness  of  her  note  by  saying  that  you  gave  her 
a  joy  that  evening  of  the  Berendo  leave-taking  that  she'll 
remember  the  longest  day  she  lives. 

You  vshould  have  seen  her  opening  each  daily  pack- 
age! She  would  hold  it  in  her  hand,  feeling  it  daintily 
as  if  her  life  depended  on  determining  in  advance  what 
was  within — then  call  upon  me  to  offer  a  guess  as  to 
the  contents — finally  removing  the  last  ribbon,  the  bit 
of  paper,  the  color  mounting  to  her  cheeks  under  the 
excitement. 

As  for  me — well,  the  goodness  of  the  angels  is  beyond 
my  comprehension.  I  spend  my  time  in  looking  at  the 
stars,  in  worshipping  from  afar.  I  look  and  dream  and 
hope  and  pray  for  a  day  when  the  stars  will  be  nearer. 

In  my  next  I  hope  to  be  able  to  say  something  definite 
about  the  lemon  rate  case,  which  comes  up  for  hearing 
in  about  a  month. 

When  am  I  to  get  my  first  letter — first  instructions 
from  my  colleague? 

Faithfully  yours, 

GEOFFREY  CANTERBURY. 


132  THE    STANDPATTER 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Before  the  afternoon  was  far  spent  Bettina  found  her- 
self in  earnest  conversation  with  Cravath — the  subject 
one  that  gave  her  both  pain  and  surprise. 

The  two  had  gone  for  a  stroll  in  the  flower  garden 
when  Cravath  led  the  way  to  a  picturesque  Japanese 
arbor  or  summer-house ;  in  appearance  more  of  a  temple 
than  either — a  pretty  little  bamboo  affair  of  curiously 
cunning  design  and  workmanship — the  material  brought 
from  the  land  of  the  cherry-blossom  and  put  in  place  by 
a  skilled  Japanese  builder.  It  skirted  the  rose  terrace 
for  some  distance  facing  the  mountains. 

"This  is  the  spot  I  love  best,"  said  Cravath  content- 
edly, as  he  drew  a  deep  breath  and  dropped  into  a  seat 
making  room  for  Bettina  at  his  side.  The  sunbeams 
strike  me  at  precisely  the  right  angle  here,  and  I  dote  on 
this  particular  view  of  his  royal  nibs,  Old  Baldy;  and — 
if  you  notice — the  Lodge  is  seen  to  its  best  advantage 
from  this  point.  It's  the  most  entrancing,  most  inspiring 
place  on  earth,  to  my  way  of  thinking." 

"I  think  it's  charming;  yet,  strangely  enough,  we  sel- 
dom sit  here." 

"Confess,  Miss  Bettina,"  Cravath  gave  her  a  banter- 
ing look  as  he  spoke,  "that  my  coming  down  'like  a  wolf 
on  the  fold'  gave  you  a  nervous  shock." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  don't  know  nerves  when  I  see  them. 
Even  the  announcement  of  your  coming  was  unneces- 
sary." 

"Really  now,  didn't  it  give  you  a  jar?" 

"None  whatever;  but,  pardon  me — our  door's  always 
ajar  to  our  friends,  I'll  say  that  much;"  and  she  smiled 
quizzically  at  him.  "I  only  wish  we  could  have  that  kind 
of  a  surprise  oftener.  You  see,  we're  never  short  of 
bread  and  butter  and  the  cook  usually  can  scrape  up  a 
little  'spreading  as  Rupert  Yenowine  calls  it.  He  was 
here  the  other  day,  and  I  insisted  on  his  staying  to  lunch- 
eon with  Millbank.  I  enjoy  Yenowine  immensely.  He's 
as  frisky  and  chipper  as  one  of  our  pet  squirrels,  and  his 
dialect  is  delicious.  'Guess  I'll  have  to  have  a  leetle  more 


4 'This  is  the  spot  I  love  the  best' 


THE    STANDPATTER  133 

bread/  he'd  say;  'seems  as  how  I've  got  some  spreadin' 
left  here;"  then,  presently,  it  would  be — "I'll  swan  ef  I 
haven't  got  more  bread  than  spreadin' — fer  the  life  o'  me 
I  can't  make  bread  and  spreadin'  come  out  jesj  even.' 
Poor  old  chap,  he's  lost  without  the  Conterburys." 

Cravath  laughed  merrily  at  Bettina's  clever  mimicry 
of  Yenowine,  but  his  face  quickly  clouded  over.  He  was 
trying  to  find  a  way  to  tell  her  what  he  had  come  out  to 
the  Lodge  to  say ;  namely,  that  unless  all  signs  failed,  the 
political  career  of  her  friend  Canterbury,  whom  he  had 
publicly  extolled  beneath  her  own  roof-tree,  but  was 
openly  denouncing  elsewhere,  was  at  an  end;  that  his 
acceptance,  at  this  juncture,  of  the  chairmanship  of  the 
Judiciary  Committee  had  proved  the  last  straw  on  a  heav- 
ily loaded  camel;  accepted  as  it  was,  as  evidence  per  se 
of  surrender,  body  and  soul,  to  the  railway  interests; 
that  that  very  morning  the  Gazette,  usually  conservative 
and  moderate  in  its  expressions,  had  devoted  much  edi- 
torial space  to  a  scathing  denunciation  of  the  man  who 
could  thus  basely  betray  his  people;  finally,  that  a  mass 
meeting  had  been  called — an  indignation  meeting,  rather 
—for  the  following  evening,  at  which,  without  a  doubt, 
Canterbury's  resignation  would  be  demanded. 

Strange,  indeed,  was  the  political  situation  which  had 
arisen — a  situation  which  the  magic  of  a  day  had  trans- 
formed from,  at  least,  passive  friendliness  into  open  and 
fiery  hostility  to  Canterbury.  Stranger  still  it  was  that 
such  a  change  of  sentiment  could  be  effected. 

Clearly  there  was  a  directing  hand  behind  all  this  con- 
flagration. It  was  not  a  case  of  spontaneous  combustion. 
The  train  had  been  well  laid,  the  brand  applied  with  skill 
and  forethought. 

And  so  Cravath  pondered  as  he  sat  in  the  brilliant  sun- 
light on  how  he  was  to  break  to  this  young  girl  the  start- 
ling news  of  Canterbury's  downfall,  as  he  mentally  de- 
nominated it. 

Cravath  fully  appreciating  the  difficulty  of  the  task 
that  confronted  him,  was  secretly  bringing  his  keenest 
judgment  ,to  bear  upon  it.  The  revelation  of  Canter- 
bury's duplicity,  he  told  himself,  must  be  made  in  a  way 
that  would  increase  Bettina's  respect  for  him,  Cravath, 
the  man  who  was  all  that  the  other  man  was  not,  the 


134  THE    STANDPATTER 

logical  successor  to  Canterbury,  heir  presumptive  to  all 
the  favor  the  people  had  to  bestow. 

"I  have  to  report  a  most  distressing  political  situation," 
was  what  he  finally  said.  There  was  suppressed  excite- 
ment in  his  voice. 

"Do  you  speak  of  a  local  situation  ?" 

"It's  local,  likewise  national.  It  affects  our  friend  Can- 
terbury." 

The  color  sprang  to  Bettina's  neck  and  cheeks — and 
mounted  steadily  to  her  temples. 

"Please  explain,"  was  all  she  could  find  voice  to  say. 

"Do  you  remember  my  speaking  to  you  about  his  pos- 
sible appointment  to  an  important  committee — and  that 
there  were  those  who  charged  him  with  having  sold  out 
in  order  to  get  it?  I  suppose  you  know  the  appointment 
has  been  made,  and,  let  me  tell  you,  there's  a  hurricane 
raging — about  the  worst  maelstrom  that  it's  ever  been 
my  privilege  to  witness." 

"What  a  cruel  shame!  He  didn't  so  much  as  ask  for 
the  appointment.  I  have  his  word  for  it." 

There  was  a  touch  of  irony  in  the  smile  with  which 
Cravath  met  this  vehement  announcement.  "Did  you 
ever  stop  to  think,  my  dear  Bettina,  that  a  man  who  could 
betray  a  trust  would  not  hesitate  to — well — cover  it  up?" 

"Pardon  me,  but  I  was  speaking  about  a  man  of  char- 
acter, a  man  of  honor." 

"Well,  my  dear  girl,  the  situation  is  here,  the  question 
is — what  are  we — you  and  I — to  do  about  it?" 

"Before  I  can  answer  that  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  for 
the  exact  situation.  You  are  right,  Mr.  Cravath;  it's  a 
time  for  action  rather  than  words." 

Without  a  word,  Cravath  took  from  his  pocket  a  mem- 
orandum book,  and  taking  from  it  a  clipping  handed  it 
to  her.  It  was  the  editorial  from  the  Gazette  of  that 
morning. 

Bettina  read  it  through  with  outward  calm. 

Congressional  Traitor  Unmasked. 

It  is  now  known  definitely  that  the  Honourable  Geof- 
frey Canterbury  is  to  be  chairman  of  the  House  Judiciary 
Committee  for  the  coming  congressional  session.  The 
Associated  Press  conveys  this  interesting  news  to  that 


THE    STANDPATTER  135 

gentleman's    California    constituents,    but    fails    to    men- 
tion the  price  paid  for  the  distinguished  honor. 

It  becomes  the  duty  of  the  Gazette  to  place  before  its 
readers  a  page  of  local  history  that  throws  a  flood  of 
light  on  this  appointment  and,  incidentally,  reveals  the 
character  of  the  member  from  Berendo. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  15th  ultimo  a  private  confer- 
ence was  held  in  Room  21  of  the  Cherokee,  the  princi- 
pals being  the  Honourable  Geoffrey  Canterbury  and 
William  Crewe,  familiarly  known  as  "Billy  Crewe  of  the 
G.  S." 

The  Gazette  need  not  explain  to  its  readers  the  sig- 
nificance of  any  political  interview  in  which  Billy  Crewe 
engages.  They  well  know  that  every  time  he  utters  a 
syllable  or  lifts  a  finger  it  means  menial  service  to  the 
Great  Southern.  His  dirty  work  has  been  shown  up  in 
these  columns  times  without  number. 

Two  days  after  the  star  chamber  conference,  it  leaked 
out  through  a  clerk  in  Crewe's  office  that  Canterbury  was 
slated  for  the  head  of  the  Judiciary  committee.  At  the 
time,  the  Gazette  refused  to  print,  without  confirmation, 
a  story  that  reflected  so  seriously  on  Mr.  Canterbury — 
it  was  willing  to  suspend  judgment  and  await  results. 

Unfortunately,  there  is  no  longer  any  doubt  as  to  the 
facts  in  the  case.  The  appointment  has  been  made.  Billy 
Crewe's  part  of  the  compact  has  been  carried  out  scru- 
pulously; it  only  remains  for  the  valiant  Canterbury  to 
pay  the  price — to  deliver  the  goods.  That  the  interests 
of  the  citrus  growers  of  this  section  were  bartered  for  this 
ill-timed  promotion,  there  is  no  longer  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt.  Cela  va  sans  dire. 

The  Gazette  calls  upon  every  public  spirited  citizen  of 
southern  California  to  take  up  arms  in  this  war  between 
the  masses  on  the  one  side  and  the  railway  and  its  cor- 
rupt allies  on  the  other.  The  life,  the  prosperity  of  the 
state  is  involved  in  this  struggle  for  a  reasonable  freight 
rate  for  citrus  fruits.  A  strong  delegation  must  be  sent 
to  Washington  to  safe-guard  our  interests.  It  must  be  a 
long  pull,  a  strong  pull  and  a  pull  all  together.  The  Ga- 
zette believes  it  is  not  too  late  to  block  this  little  Can- 
terbury game,  if  the  people  but  stand  together.  Mr.  Can- 
terbury should  be  given  his  deserts  in  the  form  of  a  ring- 


136  THE    STANDPATTER 

ing  resolution  denouncing  his  course,  and  demanding  the 
immediate  resignation  of  his  seat. 

However  deeply  moved  Bettina  might  have  been 
during  the  reading,  she  was  under  perfect  self-control  by 
the  time  she  had  finished  the  editorial.  Her  composure 
afforded  evidence  to  the  observant  Cravath  that  she  was, 
after  all,  only  interested  in  Canterbury  as  she  might  be 
in  a  score  of  others ;  as  she  probably  would  be  in  himself, 
if  he  were  placed  in  a  similar  predicament.  This  dis- 
covery gave  him  great  relief,  as  did  the  thought  that  he 
had  already  accomplished  the  most  difficult  thing  that 
he  had  set  out  to  do;  or,  at  least,  that  which  he  most 
dreaded,  that  of  telling  a  girl  of  Bettina's  intense  nature 
and  proud  spirit  that  the  man  whom  she  honored  with 
her  friendship,  if  not  with  her  love,  had  proven  himself 
unworthy  of  her  confidence. 

True,  he  had  not  convinced  her  that  the  arraignment 
of  the  young  congressman  was  just;  but  the  popular  up- 
rising would  carry  with  it  so  much  weight,  he  believed, 
that  she  could  not  long  hold  out  against  it;  then,  too,  he 
told  himself,  if  she  had  really  cared  for  Canterbury,  her 
natural  instinct  would  be  to  turn  in  her  disappointment, 
in  her  chagrin  and  bewilderment,  to  one  whom  the  people 
trusted;  to  one  who  was  in  close  sympathy  with  her  in 
all  her  plans  and  purposes ;  and,  surely,  this  sympathy 
he  had  never  failed  to  show. 

"You  say  this  mass  meeting  is  arranged  for  to-morrow 
evening  and  in  the  valley?"  Bettina  spoke  with  an  air 
of  seriousness ;  was  thinkly  too  deeply  to  indulge  in  many 
words. 

"That's  my  understanding." 

"Then  we  have  much  to  do  before  that  time." 

"But,  my  dear  girl,  I  suppose,  after  all,  there  is  little 
we  can  do.  This  thing  will  have  to  work  out  in  its  own 
way." 

"There  are  several  things  that  I  as  a  neighbor  and 
friend  of  Mr.  Canterbury  and  his  mother  shall  do;  the 
things  I  should  wish  my  neighbor  to  do  for  me,  were  I 
in  trouble." 

"What,  pray,  can  you  do?" 

"First,  I  shall  send  Mr.  Canterbury  a  night  letter  tell- 


THE    STANDPATTER  137 

ing  him  by  wire  the  whole  story  and  asking  a  return 
message  with  his  unqualified  denial;  which  I  shall  place 
before  this  meeting,  then — " 

"But,  dearest  Bettina,  have  you  stopped  to  think  how 
such  action  on  your  part  will  be  taken?" 

"I  shall  be  doing  to  others  as  I  would  have  others  do 
to  me;  it  is  not  necessary  to  go  in  to  the  subject  of  what 
people  will  have  to  say." 

"It  places  you  in  a  wrong  light  before  the  public — that 
is,  unless  you  are — well — either  engaged,  or — * — " 

"I  am  not  answerable  to  the  public,  Mr.  Cravath.  It's 
childish  to  regulate  one's  conduct  by  what  people  say.  I 
never  expect  to  do  it." 

"But,  Bettina,  I  beg  you  not  to  do  what  you'll  be  sure 
to  regret;  I  beg  you  not  to  be  rash." 

"I  am  not  given  to  vain  regrets." 

"It's  understood  your  sympathies  are  with  the  people  of 
California;  yet  you  are  willing  to  ally  yourself  with  those 
who  are  fighting  the  people's  interests." 

Bettina's  lips  trembled.  He  was  touching  a  tender  spot 
when  he  spoke  of  the  people's  interests.  How  often  she 
had  sworn  devotion  to  their  cause!  Cravath  saw  that  he 
had  for  the  first  time  made  an  appeal  to  which  she  would 
listen.  He  strove  to  make  the  most  of  it.  "I  am  not  will- 
ing to  think  that  you  of  all  others — "  he  said,  "you,  with 
your  large  inherited  fortune,  with  your  splendid  personal 
equipment,  with  your  ability  to  do  fine  things  for  your 
state,  for  society,  I  cannot  bear  to  think  that  the  first  time 
your  loyalty  is  put  to  the  test,  you  fly  with  open  arms  to 
the  side  of  wealth  and  power  and  influence ;  that  you  take 
your  place  along  with  the  successful  few,  forgetting  the 
many  who  are  handicapped  by  poverty  and  disease.  The 
two  always  go  hand  in  hand.  Bettina,  I  thought  your  pro- 
fessions meant  more — that  they  were  not  so — ephemeral." 

Bettina  looked  at  him  with  a  faint  smile,  half  humorous, 
half  cynical.  "Mr.  Cravath  that's  a  peculiar  kind  of 
nonsense  you  are  talking.  I  can't  quite  see  by  what  process 
of  reasoning  you  conclude  that  my  sympathies,  my  inclina- 
tions, my  moral  fiber  are  suddenly  to  be  rooted  out.  You 
evidently  think  me — " 

"You  are  everything  a  girl  should  be,  that  much  I  know. 
I  would  give  my  life,  if  necessary,  to  serve  you.  You  are 


138  THE    STANDPATTER 

clever,  sweet,  lovable ;  but  your  good  hard  sense  ought  to 
prevail  now.  Come  with  the  element  in  which  your  senti- 
ments place  you.  The  party's  come  to  the  parting  of  the 
ways.  The  recall  of  Canterbury  is  the  issue  upon  which 
there's  bound  to  be  a  split.  It's  the  voice  of  the  people." 

"Then  you  favor  his  recall?" 

"Alas,  I'm  left  no  choice.  There's  a  demand  that  I  take 
up  the  cause  of  the  common  people — that  I  assume  the 
leadership.  It  is  not  my  wish — but  I  long  ago  consecrated 
myself  to  their  service.  If  I  could  count  on  your  co-opera- 
tion in  the  battle  that's  on  for  the  people's  rights,  there's 
nothing  we  might  not  hope  for.  It's  a  religion  to  me." 

A  moment  of  silence  followed. 

"It's  a  sacred  thing  to  me;  but  there's  one  thing  I  shall 
do  and  you  should  do ;  before  condemning  a  man  of  Geof- 
frey Canterbury's  character  you  should  give  him  a  chance 
to  prove  his  innocence." 

Bettina  rose  as  she  spoke  and  the  two  made  their  way 
to  the  house  in  silence. 


THE    STANDPATTER  139 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  little  green  church  in  the  valley  dedicated  to  the 
worship  of  God  and  held  as  sacred  to  divine  service,  was, 
for  the  first  time  in  its  history  to  be  used  for  a  political 
gathering. 

It  was  filled  to  the  doors  with  sturdy  ranchmen,  men 
keenly  alive  and  alert  to  their  rights  and  interests,  when 
Miss  Brigham  and  her  party  entered.  There  was  not  a 
woman  present,  for  women  had  not  yet  come  into  their 
own  in  California. 

Bettina  was  accompanied  by  Frau  Wildenow  and  Miss 
Duffield,  Shirley  Cravath  and  Philip  Ingalls. 

"If  you  are  determined  to  do  this,  my  dear  girl,"  had 
said  Cravath  over  the  long-distance  telephone,  "Phil 
and  I  will  see  you  through  with  it;"  and  Bettina  was  glad 
to  accept  their  escort. 

The  arrival  of  the  party  created  a  stir.  There  was  a 
visible  craning  of  necks  to  catch  a  better  view  of  the  hand- 
some young  woman  from  Aztec  Lodge  as  she  passed  down 
the  aisle.  Her  reputation  for  doing  things  had  spread  far 
and  wide  throughout  the  valley  and  many  a  "little  journey" 
had  been  made  to  the  foot-hills  for  no  other  purpose  than 
to  see  the  pretty  college  girl  who,  within  a  few  months, 
had  changed  a  ruin  and  a  desert  into  a  place  of  beauty 
and  thrift ;  nor  did  it  lessen  the  interest  people  felt  in  her 
that  she  was  beautiful,  yet  innocently  unconscious  of  her 
beauty;  that  she  possessed  a  large  fortune,  yet  was  willing 
to  use  her  money  for  the  good  of  others,  as  had  been  evi- 
denced by  the  liberal  manner  in  which  she  had  met  Mr. 
Goodrich  when  he  was  out  in  his  campaign  for  funds  with 
which  to  prosecute  the  citrus  fruit  case  in  the  courts. 

"Raise  every  dollar  you  can,  she  had  said  with  one  of 
her  rare  smiles,  and  when  you  are  done  come  to  me  and 
I  will  duplicate  the  amount;  if  that  is  not  sufficient  there 
will  be  more  where  that  came  from." 

"Gosh,  if  it  didn't  make  me  giddy,"  said  Goodrich  to 
his  next  neighbor.  "You  bet  I  did  some  tall  soliciting-  after 
that." 

"There  are  platform  seats  reserved  for  Mr.  Cravath  and 


140  THE    STANDPATTER 

Miss  Brigham,"  the  usher  said  in  a  whisper,  as  he  cleared 
the  way  for  the  newcomers ;  and  Bettina  soon  found  her- 
self facing  the  gathering. 

Cravath  looked  about  him  with  satisfaction.  Purely  as 
a  political  move,  it  was  worth  something  to  him,  he  re- 
flected, to  escort  on  such  an  occasion,  a  girl  who  occupied 
the  position  that  Bettina  Brigham  did  in  this  community. 
He  had  heard  of  her  unique  way  of  making  a  subscription 
and  was  not  at  all  averse  to  sharing  the  glory  that  be- 
longed to  one  who  could  be  helpful  in  that  liberal-handed 
way. 

Adding  to  his  complacency,  too,  was  the  audience  itself 
which  was  made  up  largely  of  his  friends* — the  young, 
progressive  element  of  the  republican  party — and  he  took 
their  presence  as  a  guarantee  that  things  would  go  his  way. 

It  was  Colonel  Ricketts  who,  a  moment  after  their  ar- 
rival, gained  recognition  by  the  chair — Colonel  Ricketts, 
looking  every  whit  as  portly,  as  pompous  and  as  florid  as 
he  had  done  the  day  he  made  his  celebrated  withdrawal 
from  the  district  committee. 

"Mr.  Chairman,  I  desire  to  offer  a  series  of  resolutions 
and  to  move  their  adoption  by  this  body  of  freeholders." 
He  then  proceeded,  in  a  very  impressive  manner,  and  with 
a  loud  voice  to  read  several  resolutions  setting  forth,  in 
language  grandiose  and  elaborate,  various  and  sundry 
shortcomings  of  the  Honourable  Geoffrey  Canterbury;  the 
series  closing  with  a  forceful  denunciation  of  that  gentle- 
man's recent  course  in  accepting,  under  certain  conditions, 
the  appointment  given  him,  and  demanding  his  immediate 
resignation. 

The  colonel  spoke  at  some  length  and  with  dramatic 
fervor  in  support  of  the  resolutions,  at  the  same  time  ex- 
pressing his  sincere  regret  that  a  duty  so  painful  had 
fallen  upon  him.  He  had  loved  and  admired  Mr.  Canter- 
bury almost  from  the  latter's  boyhood.  The  young  man 
was  like  a  brother  to  him ;  that  he  chose  ruthlessly  to  ally 
himself  with  the  ungodly  corporations,  that  he  could  for- 
sake the  people  who  had  honored  him  with  their  confidence 
and  their  suffrages  was  one  of  life's  mysteries  that  he  was 
unable  to  solve. 

"You  have  heard  the  motion  to  adopt  these  resolutions. 
Are  there  any  further  remarks?" 


THE    STANDPATTER  141 

There  was  profound  silence  as  Bettina  stepped  to  the 
front  of  the  platform.  Sweet  and  simple  and  womanly  she 
looked  as  she  glanced  with  an  air  of  perfect  composure 
over  her  audience.  She  wore  a  trim  suit  of  white  serge, 
the  lines  long  and  straight  and  graceful  after  the  prevail- 
ing style.  It  showed  to  advantage  her  fine  figure. 

"Mr.  Chairman  and  gentlemen  and  ladies  of  this  assem- 
blage:" she  said  in  a  clear,  bell-like  voice.  "I  hold  in  my 
hand  a  telegram  received  an  hour  ago  from  the  Honourable 
Geoffrey  Canterbury,  member  of  Congress  from  the 
Twelfth  District. 

"It  came  in  response  to  an  inquiry  which  I  took  the 
liberty  of  sending  him — for  I  do  not  believe  in  condemn- 
ing the  veriest  criminal  on  earth  until  he  has  been  given 
opportunity,  full  and  free,  to  vindicate  himself. 

"Have  I  permission  to  read  this  telegram,  Mr.  Chair- 
man?" 

"If  there  are  no  objections,  Miss  Brigham  will  read  the 
telegram." 

"Miss  Bettina  Brigham:  In  response  to  your  inquiry, 
would  say  I  have  in  no  way  pledged  my  support  or  influ- 
ence to  the  Great  Southern  Railway  or  any  other  corpora- 
tion in  exchange  for  appointment  as  chairman  Judiciary 
committee.  Am  free  to  act  absolutely  in  accordance  with 
my  own  judgment  and  as  my  conscience  dictates.  Any 
representation  to  the  contrary  is  false. 

GEOFFREY  CANTERBURY. 
Sworn  to  before  me  this  itrth  day 
of  December,  191-, 

Ingraham  Van  Winkle. 
Notary    Public   in   and   for   the 
District  of  Columbia 

"Before  I  take  my  seat,"  Bettina  spoke  with  marked 
dramatice  force,  "I  desire  to  explain  my  position  further. 
It  is  one  of  entire  sympathy  with  the  effort  you  are  mak- 
ing, gentlemen,  to  bring  about  better  conditions  here  in 
California.  We  should  work  to  lift  up,  not  a  few  people 
a  mile,  but  all  the  people  an  inch.  I  am  with  you  heart 
and  soul  in  this  struggle  for  a  living  rate  for  citrus  fruit 
growers ;  I  have  shown  my  interest  as  best  I  could  and  am 
willing  to  go  further  than  I  have  already  done. 


142  THE    STANDPATTER 

"Unfortunately,  a  woman's  privilege  in  public  affairs 
is  limited  even  in  California — limited  to  paying  taxes  and 
subscribing  funds.  There's  no  ban  on  either,  I  find.  It 
will  soon  be  extended  or  all  signs  fail.  The  cry  Votes 
for  women'  is  in  the  air,  and  it  is  to  you,  gentlemen,  you 
who  call  yourselves  progressive,  that  we  women  must  look 
for  justice.  There's  no  future  for  women  in  anything  re- 
actionary. 

"But  my  plea  this  evening  is  not  in  behalf  of  women. 
I  hold  it  to  be  the  rankest  injustice  to  recall  any  man  with- 
out a  hearing,  as  you  propose  to  do  under  the  pending 
resolution.  It  would  be  an  abuse  of  the  much  talked-of 
Recall  that  would  put  it  in  dispute. 

"I  ask  that  in  the  light  of  Mr.  Canterbury's  denial  of 
the  charges  made — denial  under  oath — that  you  suspend 
judgment  until  after  the  hearing  of  our  case  in  the  court 
of  commerce. 

"Meantime,  a  competent  delegation  should  be  named  to 
go  to  Washington  to  safeguard  our  interests." 

The  applause  was  deafening  as  Bettina  took  her  seat. 
Clearly,  she  had  carried  the  audience  with  her.  Colonel 
Ricketts  was  one  of  the  first  to  see  it  and  with  no  small 
haste,  quite  as  much  as  his  dignity,  not  to  mention  his  port- 
liness, would  permit,  he  arose  and  withdrew  his  resolution. 

Prompt  and  decisive  action  followed,  leading  to  the  nam- 
ing of  a  delegation  of  representative  citizens  to  go  to 
Washington  within  a  fortnight ;  said  delegation  to  have  as  its 
chairman  James  Courtenay,  known  to  be  a  friend  of  Geof- 
frey Canterbury;  also  to  include  Miss  Bettina  Brigham, 
whose  generous  financial  aid  made  the  sending  of  such  a 
delegation  possible. 


THE    STANDPATTER  143 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Her  appointment  as  a  member  of  the  Citrus  Growers' 
Washington  delegation  Bettina  chose  to  regard  in  the 
light  of  a  sacred  trust.  She  had  not  wished  to  win  any 
such  spoil.  The  recognition  had  been  farthest  from  her 
thought;  but,  since  it  had  come  to  her  unsought,  she  im- 
mediately decided  to  accept  the  work  involved  and  give  it 
her  best  endeavor ;  accept  it  as  her  first  real  opportunity 
for  public  service. 

"It  was  a  pretty  compliment  they  paid  you,"  Cravath 
remarked  on  their  way  home;  ua  fitting  compliment,  too! 
but  I  fancy  you'll  not  feel  like  taking  any  such  heavy  re- 
sponsibility upon  yourself.  You  have  too  many  other  inter- 
ests that  are  absorbing  you.  I'd  advise  you  to  let  it  slide." 
"I'll  bet  dollars  to  doughnuts,"  broke  in  Philip  Ingalls, 
"that  our  Betty  will  go  on  to  Washington.  Moreover,  she'll 
count  for  more  in  settling-  this  muddle  than  all  the  rest 
together.  Gee,  I  wish  you'd  take  me  along,  Bettina,  as 
your  man  Friday." 

"An  architect  would  be  a  failure  as  a  man  Friday,  I'm 
convinced,"  laughed  Bettina.  "However,  I'll  agree  to  take 
Marcia  along  if  I  go,  and  that  will  insure  you're  coming, 
or  I'm  no  prophetess." 

"But  will  you  really  and  truly  go,  Betty?  I'm  crazy  to 
go  with  you,  of  course,  but  like  Mr.  Cravath,  I  was  afraid 
you  wouldn't  take  the  appointment  seriously." 

"You  wrong  me,  Miss  Marcia,  I  was  afraid  she  would 
take  it  seriously,  and  it  was  the  last  thing  in  the  world  I 
would  like  to  see  her  doing.  It's  too  grave  a  responsibility 
for  a  young  girl."  Cravath  was  plainly  excited.  He  gave 
his  blond  pompadour  a  swift  toss  backward  as  he  spoke. 

"But  I'm  thinking  what  a  glorious  tribute  to  old  Berke- 
ley— a  last  year's  girl  on  a  commission  to  the  national  capi- 
tal," said  Marcia. 

"It's  a  slam  on  our  Stanford  girls,  but  since  there  are 
to  be  'two  Berkeley  girls  in  blue,'  in  the  words  of  the  old 
song,  or,  was  it  'blew  Berkeley  girls  in  two'— I'm  forever 
getting  those  words  mixed— I'll  forgive  all."  It  was  Philip 
who  was  talking  in  his  reckless  fashion. 


144  THE    STANDPATTER 

Marcia  smiled.  "You  were  thinking  of  another  song 
altogether,  Phil:  the  song  of  the  frisky  young  chap  who 
liked  to  entertain  Betty  and  me  the  time  we  were  in  the 
country,  with  his  favorite — 

"Two  little  shoes  laid  away  in  the  drawer, 
Two  little  feet  laid  away  in  the  grave." 

"The  poor  fellow  always  got  mixed  on  his  couplet,  in- 
variably consigned  the  little  feet  to  the  drawer.  It  was 
very  droll." 

Having  reached  the  Lodge,  Cravath  and  Phillip  were  eas- 
ily persuaded  to  spend  the  night  there.  The  hour  was 
late  and  soon  the  house  was  quiet,  the  halls  deserted. 

Bettina  found  herself  too  restless  for  sleep;  and,  hav- 
ing brushed  and  plaited  her  hair,  giving  it  the  prescribed 
one  hundred  strokes ;  and  having  donned  a  pretty  negligee 
robe,  all  chiffon  and  ribbon  and  French  fripperies,  she  was 
ready  to  write  the  letter  to  Geoffrey  Canterbury  that  had 
been  giving  her  some  concern  since  events  had  taken  a 
turn  so  unexpected  and  so  altogether  trying. 

"I  shall  write  him  as  if  nothing  unusual  had  occurred," 
was  her  first  thought;  then  she  realized  that,  with  a  tele- 
gram from  him  of  so  important  a  character,  to  ignore  the 
subject  would  be,  indeed,  childish.  She  then  determined 
to  treat  the  situation  lightly,  dwelling  chiefly  on  topics 
more  cheerful. 
My  dear  Mr.  Canterbury : 

Something  unexpected  and  interesting  has  come  my  way. 
Now  what  do  you  think  it  can  be? 

It's  not  as  overwhelmingly  delightful  as  having  a  dinner 
in  one's  honor,  I'll  say  that  much — I  refer  to  a  dinner  in 
cabinet  and  senatorial  circles,  graced  by  beauty,  enlivened 
by  wit,  dignified  by  official  rank.  Oh,  no,  nothing  quite  so 
glittering  as  that,  of  course,  yet  something  exhilarating  and 
pleasant  as  befits  my  less  exalted  station. 

And  now,  having  told  this  much,  I  must  go  farther  and 
tell  the  great  news.  It  would  be  heartless  to  leave  you  a 
prey  to  suspense — for  even  congressmen  must  have  their 
moments  of  relaxation  when  curiosity  and  other  human 
emotions  assail  them. 

Pray  do  not  yield  to  a  fit  of  despondency  when  the  worst 
is  told.  Here  it  is:  I  expect  to  go  to  Washington  within 


THE    STANDPATTER  145 

a  fortnight ;  likewise,  I  shall  take  the  rest  of  the  family— 
the  "Little  Mother,"  the  "heavenly  twins,"  Marcia  of  the 
House  of  Duffield,  Henriette,  and,  naturally  a  half  dozen 
people  to  take  care  of  us  properly. 

It  may  be  for  a  month,  it  may  be  for  two — length  of 
time  to  depend  on  termination  of  freight  case — the  busi- 
ness that  takes  me — officially,  too,  Mr.  Congressman. 

Speaking  of  the  end  of  a  visit  reminds  me  of  a  story 
that  made  a  deep  impression  on  me  when  a  child.  Uncle 
Haredale  used  to  tell  it  about  his  father  when  the  latter 
was  a  boy.  The  little  chap  had  never  been  away  from 
home  and  longed  for  a  trip  by  day  and  dreamed  of  it  by 
night.  To  go  just  anywhere  would  be  bliss.  At  length  it 
was  arranged.  He  was  to  go  for  a  week's  visit  to  an 
uncle  who  lived  in  the  next  county.  He  trudged  along  on 
foot  all  the  way,  carrying  his  clothes  and  lunch,  arrived 
at  night,  tired  but  happy. 

The  next  morning  he  rose  early  and  the  first  thing  the 
uncle  said  was : 

"Well,  Billy,  are  you  for  home  to-day?" 

And  the  poor  boy  went  home  obediently.  Wasn't  that 
pathetic  ? 

While  I'm  telling  this  story,  which  as  a  lawyer  you'll 
pronounce  immaterial,  irrelevant  and  incompetent,  you're 
naturally  lost  in  amazement  about  my  official  connection 
with  the  fruit  case. 

When  your  night  letter  came  I  took  it  to  the  "Valley 
rally"  as  Phil  called  the  big  political  meeting.  It  was  pre- 
cisely what  was  needed  to  straighten  out  the  tangle.  What 
I  would  call  a  good  strategic  move  on  our  part.  Some  of 
them  saw  a  new  light  the  moment  it  was  read.  A  moment 
later  a  resolution  to  send  on  a  citizens'  committee  went 
through  like  a  whirlwind.  Strangely  enough,  I  was  in- 
cluded in  the  delegation. 

Shirley  Cravath  and  Phil  went  with  us  and  are  spend- 
ing the  night  at  the  Lodge.  I'm  too  excited  to  sleep,  hence 
this  letter. 

Mr.  Cravath  thinks  I  shouldn't  accept;  au  contraire,  I 
think  I  should.  I  don't  believe  in  shirking  civic  responsi- 
bility. 

Having  resolved  to  take  the  family  with  me,  though  not 
a  word  of  my  intention  has  been  revealed,  I  shall  take  a 


146  THE    STANDPATTER 

furnished  house,  if  possible,  one  of  those  old  historic  man- 
sions for  which  Washington  is  noted.  How  would  Lafay- 
ette Square  do?  I'd  like  your  judgment  as  to  the  house. 
I  don't  like  the  custom  of  living  at  hotels  and  boarding  on 
the  installment  plan;  that  is,  with  a  family  such  as  mine. 
Paul  and  Jane  are  at  an  age  when  they  readily  take  up 
naughty  ways  and  expressions. 

I  recently  heard  Paul  say  "Gosh."  very  vehemently.  I 
had  to  reprove  him,  of  course.  "Why,  Miss  Bettina,"  he 
said,  innocently,  "gosh  isn't  a  bad  word,  it's  just  like 
'hash."  (I  call  that  a  reflection  on  our  table.)  "Is  it 
wrong  to  say  'confound  it?'"  he  then  asked.  I  gave  him 
a  little  talk  on  the  uselessness  of  all  such  expressions. 
"Why,  Jack  says  it,"  he  said — Jack  being  a  boy  who  occa- 
sionally comes  here.  Then  he  reflected  a  moment  and  so- 
liloquized: "Jack's  eleven  and  I'm  going  on  eight  and  I 
guess  I  know  more  about  sin  than  he  does." 

My  idea  is  that  this  delegation  should  work  right  along 
with  you.  James  Courtenay,  who  shows  a  warm  friend- 
ship for  you,  is  chairman.  In  spite  of  all  that's  been  said, 
the  members  will  be  reasonable;  you'll  have  little  trouble 
to  convince  them  that  you  are  with  the  people.  Your 
straight-forward  denial  paved  the  way  for  strong  work  for 
the  cause  that  is  uppermost  here. 

I  expect  to  give  the  subject  the  same  conscientious  study 
Differential  Calculus  calls  for — the  same  kind  I  gave  Juris- 
prudence with  Professor  Lindley — and  that  was  no  child's 
play. 

May  I  hope  for  another  letter  from  you? 

BETTINA  BRIGHAM. 


THE    STANDPATTER  147 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Never  had  Geoffrey  Canterbury  been  under  such ,  de- 
pressing nervous  tension  as  during  the  opening  days  of 
that  memorable  session. 

How  soon  the  elation  attending  his  selection  to  an  im- 
portant post  was  destined  to  turn  to  heaviness  of  heart! 
For  how  little  counted  congratulations — social  courtesies — 
encomiums  from  the  Speaker  of  the  House,  from  his  col- 
leagues, when  weighed  against  an  avalanche  of  savage  and 
cruel  criticism  from  the  press;  criticism,  he  told  himself, 
infamous,  heartless,  rasping,  wholly  undeserved.  It  came, 
for  the  most  part,  from  editors  who  wanted  to  see  or  fan- 
cied they  saw  in  his  appointment  an  unholy  alliance,  who 
asserted  that  it  was  a  case  of  bit  and  bridle,  of  bid  and 
barter,  of  iniquitous  servility  to  monopoly. 

All  this  he  might  have  borne  with  some  degree  of  seren- 
ity, conscious  of  his  own  rectitude,  had  not  the  dispatches 
told  the  harrowing  tale  of  the  revolt  in  the  Twelfth  district. 
That  was  too  much.  It  became  evident  that  his  friends, 
too,  were  being  poisoned  against  him;  that  they  had  been 
led  to  believe  him  treacherous,  base,  mercenary. 

To  think  that  a  man  of  Jim  Courtenay's  loyalty,  a  man 
whole-souled,  warm-hearted,  generous,  could  be  induced  to 
go  against  him  was,  indeed,  crushing.  Others  had  been 
equally  devoted  to  him.  He  well  knew  their  desertion,  if 
it  came  to  that — and  it  looked  as  if  it  would,  was  not  of 
their  own  initiative. 

Geoffrey  saw  the  sinister  finesse  of  Shirley  Cravath  in 
this  uprising.  It  could  be  none  other  than  Cravath's  fine 
Italian  hand  that  had  written  the  Gazette  editorial  on  the 
morning  after  his  appointment;  his  brain  that  planned  the 
Valley  mass  meeting,  and  dictated  the  resolutions  demand- 
ing that  he  vacate  his  seat.  By  whom  was  the  seat  to  be 
taken  ?  Plainly  by  no  one  but  Cravath ;  that  was  the  logic 
of  the  situation.  He  was  the  only  one  named  in  that  con- 
nection. 

The  most, bitter  reflection,  however,  was  that  Cravath 
had  established  himself  as  a  regular  visitor  at  Aztec  Lodge, 
the  friend  and  adviser  of  its  beautiful  young  mistress — an 
undoubted  suitor  for  her  heart  and  hand. 


148  THE    STANDPATTER 

There  was  no  length  to  which  such  a  man  might  go, 
Geoffrey  reflected,  in  order  to  gain  his  purpose.  He  had 
hoped  that  something  might  reveal  him  in  his  true  light 
to  Bettina,  but,  evidently,  she  believed  him  the  gentleman 
for  which  he  was  attempting  to  pass. 

Then  came  Bettina's  telegram,  giving  him  the  ugly  re- 
cital that  the  wires  had  already  brought  him,  giving  it 
delicately  yet  faithfully,  in  unmistakable  friendship. 

It  was  like  the  warm  touch  of  a  human  hand,  this  mes- 
sage from  the  young  girl ;  a  hand  stretched  out  to  him  from 
the  darkness  and  the  gloom ;  a  hand  clasping  his  own  in 
sympathy ;  sympathy  not  of  words ;  sweeter  far  than  words 
was  the  act  itself. 

The  message  from  Bettina  gave  Geoffrey  new  life,  new 
hope,  new  buoyancy.  It  lifted  him  out  of  himself;  rather, 
it  enabled  him  to  pull  himself  together,  and  return  to  the 
work  he  had  been  compelled  to  neglect.  This  he  did  with 
a  degree  of  composure  which  he  himself  found  difficult  to 
comprehend.  He  determined  hereafter  to  drive  his  feelings, 
his  emotions,  not  to  be  driven  by  them ;  and  one  who  makes 
such  a  resolve  and  keeps  it  is  sure  to  become  an  expert 
driver. 

Within  a  few  days  came  Bettina's  letter  with  the  an- 
nouncement that  sent  the  blood  surging  to  Geoffrey's 
temples — that  the  Brigham  household  was  to  be  trans- 
ferred, temporarily,  to  Washington ;  and  since  she  had  men- 
tioned Lafayette  Square,  Geoffrey  haunted  that  locality 
until  he  knew  every  foot  of  it  and,  better  still,  found  that 
one  of  its  most  beautiful  old  homes  was  to  be  let  for  the 
winter.  He  secured  it  at  once. 

Through  the  newspapers  the  action  of  the  Valley  meet- 
ing had  reached  Geoffrey.  They  told  the  dramatic  story 
of  the  withdrawal  of  the  Ricketts  resolution  and  the  sub- 
stitution of  another  favoring  an  advisory  committee  which 
should  go  to  Washington.  The  ill  wind  had  blown  over 
and — it's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good. 

Following  close  upon  the  heels  of  Bettina's  letter  came 
one  from  Jim  Courtenay.  It,  too,  found  welcome  and 
brought  good  cheer. 


THE    STANDPATTER  149 

^ 

Dear  Mr.  Canterbury: 

It  was  a  lively  show,  all  right,  while  it  lasted  but  blamed 
if  there  wasn't  too  much  dirty,  underhand  work  done  in 
putting  it  on  the  boards  to  justify  converting  the  little 
green  meetin'  house  into  a  theater  for  the  accommodation 
of  the  crowd. 

Colonel  Rickets  was  the  star  performer,  but,  bless  you, 
he  wasn't  any  more  responsible  for  the  character  of  the 
performance  than  one  of  these  mechanical  toys  you  see  on 
the  streets  nowadays  is  for  its  gyrations. 

It  was  Shirley  Cravath  that  manipulated  the  strings  from 
start  to  finish.  He  was  just  wily  enough  to  keep  his  de- 
spicable hand  hidden. 

Cravath  had  his  plans  all  laid  to  do  just  what  he  did 
and  a  good  deal  more — I've  got  the  proof  of  it — in  the 
event  of  your  appointment,  and  I  tell  you  nothing  but  the 
interposition  of  Providence  and  the  nerve  and  good  sense 
of  Miss  Brigham  of  Aztec  Lodge  saved  the  day. 

By  the  way,  Geoff,  that's  a  wonderful  girl.  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  her  come  out  on  the  platform,  and  turn 
the  tables  completely  over  with  a  touch  of  her  pretty  hand, 
a  toss  of  her  lovely  head. 

She  wouldn't  stand  by  in  silence — that's  what  she  said, 
in  substance — and  see  such  rank  injustice  done  to  the  vil- 
est sinner  in  christendomi — no  insinuation  against  you,  old 
chap. 

I  tell  you  her  courage  brought  the  blush  of  shame  to 
my  manly  cheeks.  It's  what  I  wanted  to  do,  but  Geoff, 
I  just  hadn't  the  sand. 

And  to  think  that  Cravath  had  the  gall  to  escort  her  to 
and  from  the  meeting!  It  makes  my  blood  boil.  But 
there's  a  day  of  reckoning  coming  and,  as  sure  as  my 
name's  Courtenay,  I  shall  expose  that  man  Cravath.  Don't 
you  forget  it,  and  don't  forget  that  we  haven't  all  lost  con- 
fidence in  the  member  from  the  Old  Twelfth. 
Faithfully  yours, 

JAMES  COURTENAY. 

Courtenay's  letter  touched  Geoffrey.  The  expression  of 
confidence,  put  in  Jim's  rough  but  forceful  way,  went 
straight  to  his  heart.  The  knowledge  of  what  Bettina  had 
done — she  herself  had  purposely  passed  it  over  airily — 


150  THE    STANDPATTER 

had  made  nothing  of  it,  filled  him  with  unspeakable  joy. 
What  a  brave,  true-hearted,  wonderful  girl  she  was,  to  be 
sure;  and  she  had  done  this  for  him;  had  done  it  because 
she  believed  in  his  honesty  of  purpose;  she  could  see  be- 
yond their  differences  and  respect  his  motives.  He  didn't 
want  pity,  didn't  ask  for  sympathy,  but  he  did  crave  compre- 
hension. What  a  heavenly  thing  it  would  be,  he  told  him- 
self, again  and  again,  to  win  the  love  of  such  a  girl !  Could 
such  good  fortune  ever  be  his?" 

Geoffrey  had  acquired  the  habit  of  dropping  in  on  Sen- 
ator Gibbs  at  the  close  of  a  session.  He  usually  found  the 
great  statesman  at  work  in  his  committee  room  at  that 
hour.  Often  it  was  only  necessary  to  open  the  door  of 
the  outer  office;  to  ascertain,  through  the  secretary,  that 
the  senator  was  engaged ;  or,  seeing  him  surrounded  by 
a  coterie  of  friends,  he  would,  without  making  his  pres- 
ence known,  turn  and  wend  his  way  back  through  the 
marble  corridors  and  out  into  the  open. 

On  the  evening  following  the  receipt  of  his  letter  from 
Courtenay,  Geoffrey  found  the  senator  alone. 

"Come  in,  come  in,"  the  older  man  called  out.  "I've 
been  wanting  to  see  you,  Canterbury.  Pull  off  your  top- 
coat, if  you'll  be  more  comfortable.  They  tell  me  our 
little  appointment  stirred  up  the  animals  a  bit  out  in  the 
wilds  of  your  district." 

"Yes,  they  gave  a  lusty  howl." 

"Excitement's  blown  over  by  this  time,  I  suppose?" 

"Well,  practically  so." 

"Who  was  at  the  bottom  of  it  all?" 

Geoffrey  smiled,  and  taking  the  Courtenay  letter  from 
his  pocket,  handed  it  to  the  senator. 

"The  dickens!  I  didn't  think  things  had  gone  to  the 
mass-meeting  stage.  That's  nasty,"  and  the  senator  handed 
back  the  letter. 

"This  man  Cravath  has — not  exactly  an  itching  palm, 
but — I  take  it  he's  after  your  shoes." 

"No  question  about  that." 

"And  who's  this  young  Portia  that  comes  to  the  rescue  ?" 

"A  young  college  woman  that  is  about  to  arrive  in 
Washington  with  a  California  delegation — coming  in  the 
interest  of  the  citrus  fruit-growers — the  right's  on  in  the 
courts  against  the  advance  in  freight  rates." 


t< 


tjrr 


ei? 


'He  usually  found  the  great  statesman  at  work 
in  his  committee  room  at  that  hour" 


THE    STANDPATTER  151 

"I  see,  I  see.  That's  the  case  before  the  court  of  com- 
merce." 

'That's   right.     Hearing's   set   for   the   twenty-ninth. 

"Precisely.  Little  satisfaction  your  California  delegation 
will  get,  though.  Your  young  Portia  had  better  save  her 
breath  to  cool  her  broth." 

''What  do  you  mean.  Senator?" 

"Why,  the  decision's  bound  to  go  one  way,  you  under- 
stand ;  can  only  go  one  way  in  the  very  nature  of  things." 

"That  will  have  to  depend,  I  suppose,  on  the  court,"  and 
Geoffrey  gave  some  symptoms  of  nervousness. 

"But,  my  dear  Canterbury,  the  rule  is  to  take  no  chances 
in  the  matter  of  courts — oh,  no." 

"To — take — no — chances  ?" 

"Certainly  not,"  said  the  senator,  a  shade  of  impatience 
stealing  into  his  voice. 

"But,  really — I  don't  quite — understand  you." 

Senator  Gibbs  laughed  nervously.  "My  dear  Mr.  Canter- 
bury," he  said  as  he  placed  his  hand  in  intimate  fashion 
on  the  other's  arm,  "I  need  hardly  tell  a  shrewd  war-horse 
like  you  that  judges,  nowadays,  do  not  get  their  appoint- 
ments— well — at  random.  The  moneyed  interests  of  the 
country  have  a  little  care  to  that.  Large  business  interests 
simply  must  have  protection,  you  know.  It's  every  whit 
as  mandatory  that  the  courts  should  be — well — amenable 
to  reason,  as  that — Congress  should  be  composed  of  men 
that  will  vote  right  where  large  interests  are  at  stake." 

"But,  pardon  me,  who  determines  a  man's  fitness  for 
the  bench?" 

"Well,  it  amounts  practically  to  this :  A  few  trusted  men 
of  the  country,  men  of  high  financial  standing,  far-sighted 
men,  men  with  a  broad  outlook — to  whom  the  financial 
prosperity  of  the  country  means  much — in  a  large  way,  you 
understand] — these  men  pass,  in  advance,  upon  appoint- 
ments where  large  interests  are  involved.  You  see  we  have 
much  at  stake.  A  few  of  us,  by  industry,  thrift  and  econ- 
omy, have  accumulated  almost  half  of  the  fluid  wealth  of 
the  country.  And  will,  in  time,  get  complete  control  of 
the  banking,  power.  Vigilance  must  be  exercised  to  keep 
things  running  smoothly.  And — I  might  say — ah— the 
courts  are  especially  important.  We  can't  afford  any  loose 


152  THE    STANDPATTER 

ends  there.  We  do  not  care  who  elects  congressmen,  or 
even  presidents,  so  long  as  we  can  name  the  judges." 

"Do  I  understand  there's  a  censorship  over  the  courts?" 

"I  wouldn't  put  it  in  just  that  way,  my  boy." 

"But  it  amounts  to  that?" 

"The  courts  are  handled — well — much  as  is  Congress. 
You  observe  how  appointments  are  made  here.  You've 
had  a  gratifying  demonstration  of  the  way  the  thing's 
done,"  and  the  senator  chuckled  and  rubbed  his  hands 
together. 

The  blood  fled  from  Geoffrey's  face.  After  the  first 
cold  shock  of  pain  and  bewilderment,  came  the  sharp  sting 
c_r  indignation,  of  self-reproach  at  the  thought  that  he  was 
a  beneficiary  of  so  corrupt  a  system.  The  scales  had  fallen 
from  his  eyes. 

There  was  the  flash  of  anger  in  the  gray  eyes,  a  stern 
note  in  Geoffrey's  voice,  as  he  said:  "Senator,  this  is  news 
to  me — a  most  unwelcome  revelation,  I  assure  you.  Under 
no  circumstances  would  I  accept  or  retain  an  appointment 
made  by  any  man  or  group  of  men  whose  business  it  is 
to  regulate  the  courts,  to  safeguard  'business  interests/ ' 

"But,  my  dear  fellow — you  surely  have  not  been  in  the 
dark.  For  what  earthly  reason?" 

"For  what  reason  should  I  be  given  the  appointment? 
I  fancy  that  was  your  question.  For  no  reason,  whatever, 
except  that  my  professional  training  and  experience  en- 
titled me  to  it.  I  shall,  of  course,  resign  at  once." 

"You  amaze  me,  Canterbury.  For  heaven's  sake,  con- 
sider what  you're  saying!  Give  this  subject  a  little  calm 
thought  and  you'll  see  that  what  we're  doing  is  for  the 
country's  good — and  that's  what  we're  all  striving  for — 
in  the  final  analysis." 

The  aged  senator  rose  as  he  spoke.  The  interview  was 
closed.  Geoffrey  quickly  left  the  room. 


THE    STANDPATTER  153 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

The  more  intently  Geoffrey  pondered  on  the  revelations 
so  calmly  conveyed  to  him  by  the  man  whom  he  had  held 
in  highest  esteem,  the  stronger  grew  the  wonder  within  him 
that  he  had  been  so  blind  to  the  real  situation ;  that  he  had 
permitted  himself  to  be  so  helplessly  entangled  in  the 
meshes  of  the  hideous  system,  the  operation  of  which  the 
senator  had  outlined  with  unblushing  candor. 

"How  stupidly  blind  and  ignorant  I've  been!"  Geoffrey 
groaned,  as  he  dropped  his  head  in  his  hand  and  sat  for 
hours  thinking  it  over — sat  brooding  in  the  privacy  of  nis 
own  apartment  till  long  after  the  stroke  of  midnight. 

Now  that  his  eyes  were  opened — and,  he  declared,  to 
acquire  sight  in  his  case,  had  all  but  required  a  surgical 
operation — what  a  flood  of  light  streamed  in !  He  could 
see  it  all,  could  follow  the  ramifications  of  "the  system" 
with  its  endless  tentacles  reaching  out  from  the  big  .:ities 
of  the  east — great  centers  of  wealth  and  population — to  the 
secluded  and  remote  hamlets — always  the  system,  its 
agents  alert,  vigilant ;  protecting,  not  the  weak,  the  help- 
less, the  unfortunate  in  this  land  of  freedom,  but  the  rich, 
the  strong  and  mighty. 

Geoffrey  could  hear  as  he  sat  with  bowed  head  the  meas- 
ured tones  of  the  senator  as  he  told  how  it  was  necessary 
that  they- — the  handful  of  men  of  immense  wealth — the 
men  who  soon  were  to  control  all  the  wealth  as  they  gained 
a  firmer  hand  over  the  sources  of  wealth — should  control 
all  appointments — particularly  the  appointments  of  all 
judges.  And  he,  Geoffrey  Canterbury,  was  a  part  of  this 
nefarious  regime! 

His  course  was  at  last  clear  before  him.  There  was  no 
sleep  for  him  until  he  had  written  his  resignation  as  chair- 
man of  the  Judiciary  committee. 

His  next  step  was  to  sketch  an  outline  of  his  reasons  for 
his  resignation,  to  be  worked  out  more  fully  the  next  day 
and  given,  to  the  associated  press  in  the  form  of  an  inter- 
view. 

The  resignation  of  the  member  from  the  Twelfth  Cali- 
fornia district  from  the  chairmanship  of  the  House  Judi- 


154  THE    STANDPATTER 

ciary  committee,  announcement  of  which  appeared  on  the 
day  of  Bettina' s  arrival  in  Washington,  created  even  more 
of  a  stir  than  had  his  appointment  to  that  exalted  position. 

In  his  interview,  widely  disseminated  by  the  press,  Mr. 
Canterbury  did  not  seek  to  evade  the  main  issue.  In  a 
straightforward  and  entirely  frank  way,  he  acknowledged 
having  received  a  new  light  on  the  methods  by  which  com- 
mittees were  chosen,  their  chairmen  selected,  and  also  on 
the  obligations  such  appointment  imposed.  These  methods 
in  no  way  met  his  approval.  These  obligations  he  was 
unwilling  to  assume.  As  a  member  of  Congress  he  knew 
no  obligation  save  that  of  honorable  service  in  behalf  of 
his  constituents ;  would  suffer  no  dictation  save  from  his 
own  conscience. 

His  conversion,  he  might  as  well  say,  had  been  com- 
plete— so  thorough  as  to  carry  him  out  of  the  slough  of 
standpatism  to  the  principles  of  true  republicanism — the 
principles  of  Lincoln,  which  had  their  deep  roots  in  the 
belief  that  the  people  should  rule,  that  they  were  capable  of 
ruling;  that  it  was  safe  to  make  them  the  court  of  last 
resort. 

At  his  first  meeting  with  Bettina  at 'the  Union  Station 
on  the  evening  of  that,  to  him,  memorable  day,  Geoffrey 
fancied  a  shadow  of  restraint  in  her  manner — an  absence, 
at  least,  of  the  almost  childlike  frankness  that  had  made 
her  so  sweetly  companionable  in  those  alluring  days  at 
Aztec  Lodge. 

Afterwards,  thinking  over  the  delightful  experience  of 
her  arrival,  analyzing  his  own  emotions,  recalling  her  slight- 
est word,  her  every  glance,  even  the  fleeting  color  in  the 
lovely-  contour  of  her  face — he  attributed  the  change — if 
change  there  was — to  their  meeting  in  so  different  an  envir- 
onment. He  told  himself  that,  after  all,  the  change  was 
probably  in  himself. 

Soon  there  were  no  barriers  of  reserve.  The  easy, 
friendly  relations  were  again  securely  established;  but, 
strangely  enough,  she  said  nothing  of  his  resignation. 

The  arrival  of  as  important  a  personage  as  Miss  Bettina 
Brigham  in  Washington  was  duly  chronicled  by  the  enter- 
prising dailies  of  the  capital  city — not  in  the  society  col- 
umns alone — too  dazzling  a  story  by  far  for  that — but  as 
special  features  of  the  big  Sunday  editions. 


THE    STANDPATTER  155 

There  were  given  different  views  interior  and  exterior, 
of  the  stately  mansion  on  Lafayette  Square — Washington's 
most  interesting  section — which  she  and  her  household 
would  occupy  during  their  season's  stay  at  the  national 
capital;  a  brief  sketch  of  the  historical  events  with  which 
this  charming  old  house  was  connected ;  and,  to  the 
amazement  of  the  young  ladies  themselves,  uninitiated  in 
newspaper  tactics  as  they  were,  pictures  of  Miss  Brigham 
and  her  friend,  Miss  Duffield,  "two  famous  beauties  of 
the  Pacific  Slope." 

Special  writers  waxed  eloquent  in  description  of  Miss 
Brigham  herself,  her  Titian  hair,  variously  described  as 
a  "bright,  golden  mist,"  an  "aureole,"  a  "halo";  her  mar- 
vellous coloring,  her  distinguished  bearing  and  charming 
manners;  not  forgetting  to  emphasize  her  vast  wealth, 
scholarly  attainments,  interest  in  scientific  pursuits  and  the 
strikingly  original  direction  she  was  giving  her  life  by 
personally  conducting  a  gigantic  fruit  ranch  in  her  native 
state.  It  was  said  the  ranch  was  already  one  of  the  show 
places  of  California. 

The  public  was  likewise  informed  that  Miss  Brigham 
enjoyed  the  distinction  of  having  been  sent  to  the  national 
capital  as  a  member  of  a  delegation  of  citizens  who  repre- 
sented valuable  interests  on  the  coast;  an  unusual  honor 
to  bestow  upon  one  so  young.  To  crown  all,  Miss  Brig- 
ham  was  sufficiently  a  "new  woman"  to  be  deeply  inter- 
ested in  politics  and  was  warmly  progressive  in  her  sym- 
pathies. 

Almost  before  the  young  ladies  were  aware  of  it,  cer- 
tainly before  they  expected  such  a  thing — in  fact,  such  a 
possibility  had  not  dawned  upon  them — they  found  them- 
selves the  center  of  a  brilliant  social  life.  The  ladies  of 
the  California  delegation,  wives  and  daughters  of  the 
members,  hastened  to  call,  to  extend  invitations  to  recep- 
tions, to  teas,  to  the  theatre. 

There  was  a  hurried  readjustment  of  social  lists  so  as  to 
make  them  include  the  two  reigning  belles  of  the  western 
coast.  Small  dinners  were  arranged  for  no  other  reason 
than  because  of  a  desire  to  establish  a  more  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  those  who  brought  to  society  so  much  un- 
spoiled freshness  and  charm. 

"How  are  we  going    to    manage    about    clothes?"  was 


156  THE    STANDPATTER 

Marcia's  somewhat  anxious  inquiry  when  invitations  be- 
gan to  pour  in  upon  them.  "There's  no  use  talking,  my 
best  togs  look  like  last  year's  birds'  nests  here  in  Washing- 
ton. What  do  our  good  looks,  that  the  papers  have  been 
prating  about,  amount  to  if  we're  not  smartly  gowned?" 

"That's  all  simple  enough.  I  thought  you  doted  on 
shopping.  Let's  plunge  in  and  get  it  over.  Remember  it's 
my  treat."  It  was  Bettina's  solution  of  the  problem. 

It  was  two  enthusiastic  shoppers  that  the  "Little  Mother'' 
chaperoned  for  a  few  days,  even  taking  a  run  with  them 
to  New  York  before  they  were  fully  satisfied  of  their  fit- 
ness to  appear  in  Washington's  smart  official  set. 

Bettina  was  happy  when  this  unexpected  preliminary  was 
well  out  of  the  way.  She  could  now  spend  her  mornings 
mainly  at  the  capitol  or  in  the  congressional  library,  look- 
ing up  questions  of  transportation,  rulings  of  the  Inter- 
state Commerce  Commission,  studying  puzzling  tariff 
problems,  or  visiting  the  House  when  there  was  likelihood 
of  a  discussion  involving  the  points  in  which  she  was  most 
interested,  upon  which  that  momentous  decision  would 
rest.  She  had  resolved  to  be  thorough  in  her  preparation 
for  the  hearing;  the  more  fully  equipped  she  could  be  by 
the  time  her  associates  of  the  commission  arrived,  the 
more  assistance  she  could  render  them. 

The  stately  residence  with  its  rich  old  mahogany,  its 
time-stained  tapestries,  its  few  choice  pictures  and  rare 
bronzes  gave  them  increasing  delight. 

Frau  Wildenow  found  keen  pleasure  in  it  because  of  a 
certain  mellowing  influence  that  time  alone  can  bestow. 
She  had  missed  this  in  California.  Even  the  twins  were 
fascinated  with  the  hidden  nooks  and  unexpected  passages 
of  the  quaint  old  house.  They  played  by  the  hour  in  the 
big,  airy  attic  which  they  liked  best  of  all. 

Marcie  took  as  her  special  work  the  arrangement  of 
fresh  flowers  daily  throughout  the  spacious  halls  and 
drawingrooms.  She  was  engaged  thus  one  day  soon  after 
their  arrivel  when  Bettina  entered. 

"Betty,  dear,  I've  had  a  letter  from  Phil." 

"How  truly  wonderful !" 

"Not  so  wonderful  as  the  things  he  had  to  tell." 

"Chief  of  which  was?" 

"Well,  the  political  gossip." 


THE    STANDPATTER  157 

"Politics  in  his  letters  to  you?     I'd  never  suspected  it." 

"Well,  there  were  other  things,  too/'  Marcia  blushingly 
admitted. 

"Of  course  there  were  other  things,  but  did  he  speak 
of  Mr.  Canterbury?" 

"He  did— says  there's  all  kinds  of  good  feeling— jollifi- 
cations, banquets,  that  sort  o'  thing,  you  know,  about  Mr. 
Canterbury's  latest  move;  says  Shirley  Cravath's  down 
and  out — and  here  I  am  at  the  seat  of  war  and  don't 
know  what  he  's  driving  at.  What's  he  referring  to  Betty, 
dear?" 

"Mr.  Canterbury's  resigned  from  the  Judiciary  Commit- 
tee. Haven't  you  seen  it  in  the  papers?" 

'Resigned?     Why,  how  perfectly  dreadful!" 

'How  perfectly  glorious,  I  say," 

'But,  Betty,  it  puts  an  end  to  his  career." 

'It's  the  opening  chapter  in  a  really  great  career." 

'In  heaven's  name,  why  was  it  necessary  to  do  such  an 
unheard  of  thing?" 

"Marcia,  dear,  he  hasn't  told  me.  We've  never  men- 
tion it  at  all — the  resignation,  I  mean.  That's  what  hurts 
both  of  us  I — I — think'  I  read  it  in  the  papers  the  day  we 
arrived. 

"And  you  didn't  speak  about  it?  You  expected  him  to 
bring  it  up?  Betty  Brigham,  you're  a — mollycoddle." 

"But  it  was  a  delicate  subject.  I'd  said  so  much  to  him 
— about  political  trickery — badgered  him,  as  you  say  and  it 
somehow  struck  right  home  to  me.  I  couldn't — I  just 
couldn't  say  a  word.  Marcia,  Mr.  Canterbury'  noble,  he's 
grand,  the  soul  of  honor,  I  never,  never  knew  his  equal. 
He  resigned  because  he  found  dishonesty  in  high  places — 
he  couldn't  and  wouldn't  do  the  things  expected  of  him. 

Marcia  put  up  a  warning  finger.  "Betty  Brigham,  you 
care  for  that  man  more  than  all  the  rest.  You  can't  look 
me  squarely  in  the  eyes  and  deny  it." 

"Marcia,  you're  ridiculously  sentimental,  as  I've  re- 
marked before.  I  admire  Mr.  Canterbury,  of  course." 

"And  if  you  don't  send  for  him  to  come  and  talk  over 
this  resignation  that's  hurting  both,  him  and  you;  why,  it 
couldn't  help  hurting  the  way  you're  acting.  If  you  don't 
break  that  foolish  silence — I  shall  take  the  bits  into  my  own 
teeth." 


158  THE    STANDPATTER 

Bettina  smiled.     "I   reckon   1*11  not  trust  you   with  my 
private  correspondence,  m'amie." 


Bettina  met  the  member  from  the  Twelfth  District  be- 
fore he  reached  the  door.  "And  so,"  she  said,  "I  had  to 
send  for  you,  after  all.  Geoffrey." 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


NOV  6  1918 


•KB  so 


30m-6,'14 


YC  95)01 


263489 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


